The burning skies are steel,

The parched earth is dry,

And we die,

The people in the world die,

The mealies cannot grow,

The grass is burnt away,

And grim death

Is haunting us away.

Thanks God who lives on high

Is not Father to us now,

For we die,

In agony we die.

The cattle all are gone,

The children reel and faint,

And they die,

O Father God ,they die.

By: Pretty Mhlanti