Thy lips hate me,

But the heart long for me,

When the heart rejects me,

Thy feet takes thee to me,

You fickle minded,

You care me in secret,

your dream I am,

Thy head in chains,

My voice whispers everywhere,

I rule the world,

What do thee see at my face?

All you see is the future,

But my back hold thy death.

Blessed be thee who sees the scar of death,

For thee are the remnants.

Who am I?


By: Goodson Tembo