Son of the soil

Many many years ago I heard a name
only whispered around at night
of tales mighty and brave
carried by the waves at sea
whispered by the east wind over the Namib
flown by the eagles over maintains high
far and wide through the mahangu fields
over the Daures it was heard
its echo spread like wild fire over the land

Aluta, aluta continua, he roared!
motivating and marshaling his troop to battle
Our blood will water their freedom, he said
a price so high to pay
yet, marched on they did, willingly
tired legs marching through African mud
nurturing the soil with their blood
of bodies piled and victory sought
yes marched on they did at all cost
and victory was achieve by blood spoiled

Beware of the enemy within he warned
as ethnic consciousness roams across the land
the enemy that will be born once again
will not come from lands afar
not a tribe dwells these lands
that's united among themselves
for therein lies the power
that the greed master will use to conquer

A last look at his reign
the lion move to his den
As born frees will learn his name
for years and years to come