The African Drum
The dancers are scattered
each, having his own tune
while the wind blows and howls
each stepping the other way
while the storms rush in sway
The leaders have their palaces
where they sip red wine and eat red meat
The soldiers have their battle fields
where their guns speak for them
But the African drum calls!
come all, come home
love awaits at the Saharan shores
Faith leads through the dark forests
purity flows along the nile river
The still calls on us
poem by Timothy muggaga
Added by Poetry Lover
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