Wonders on the seven heavens.
Kibumba,
Wali watyah?
Does the first of them seat at pinnacle?
Do its great people stare at you much?
You must be like the first time;
an everlasting moment,
one you would miss it if you blinked.
Maybe they are selfless and wise,
they studied your art, studied the stars,
hence they deserve to live among the stars.
Or maybe they mastered the art of Buddhism,
peace; your nature. I wonder,
how do they move about?
Do they fly, teleport, levitate,
or gallop over clouds on chariots?
Ate a'waiirirrah...?
Do they see you?
Do they play with the Angels?
Are they as godly as ye?
Do they take in your everlasting beauty?
But beauty does not suite thee,
you are beyond diamonds and roses.
you're marvel and stunning awe;
love- which is the mother of all.
So they must be loving people.
mothers, seekers, believers
No one loves like these do,
and to you they do stay true.
Ate a'waiirirrah...?
Are the trees as beautiful?
Does the wind whisper sweet songs
as it lashes over colourful leaves?
Does the sun shine just as fine?
Or is it a matter of choice that they voice?
The people must be religious,
hearts full of prayer, so pious.
but failed to deal with common sense,
Yet a heart that offers deals with a sixth sense.
and as they prayed, they never thanked but craved,
but they did get to their knees so you handed them keys.
Ate a'waiirirrah...?
What is it like in their heaven?
Their souls must be amicable,
they must be innocent and ignorant.
Do they dwell among the animals?
Innocent animals that only long to live.
so they must dwell humbly together,
for living is their common trait.
This place must be ever green,
with no reason for one to feel green;
for they live seamlessly with nature.
Ate a'waiirirrah...?
Do they live like those in an empire?
Within great wall boundaries,
lead by robin hoods as their providers,
in a realm of their own confines
of cowardice, selfishness and fear;
fear to stand for what is right,
but maybe their good does outweigh their bad.
It must hold those that do bad for good,
Heaven's robin hoods,
stealing the kings jewellery,
and giving it to the needy.
the righteous; yet not so right.
Ate a'waiirirrah...?
Is this where your angel was banished to?
Mr Lucifer, the miscreant.
The child of ye who failed to learn
to stay away from the hot flames.
The host of hell games.
This must be where the bad dwell,
with their tummies absurdly swell,
filled with grid and tons of need.
The grounds they walk must be hot as hell,
the trees in dormancy and their earth ashes.
the oceans must be lit like matches,
the meadows of grass must be molten lava,
the clouds must be gloomy and grey,
the people must yell and scream with so much to say.
Its no wonder the heavens that surround this,
are prone to flames and dark ways.
kibumbah,
Wano awsemba ndidi wo,
This is where you put me to live,
where you have tested many generations,
where you have proved your kindness and patience.
where your love has stood the test of time-
despite the evil and grime,
from us the replicas of your image,
who have decided to stain it and cause you pain.
You have blessed us with plentiful milk and honey,
and trees nourished with fruit,
but we have decide to refine them as money.
We live in beautiful and sunny heaven,
nourished by the dwindling rains;
a beautiful place, with beautiful people,
but some with dark hearts;
hearts filled with greed,
and yearning for power; high power,
the kind we can't even sustain but vainly,
seek it to run through their veins.
we make it who we are,
vandalising your image.
How much longer will we ruin,
this world yet it is our heaven?
Kibumba,
Wali watyah?
Does the first of them seat at pinnacle?
Do its great people stare at you much?
You must be like the first time;
an everlasting moment,
one you would miss it if you blinked.
Maybe they are selfless and wise,
they studied your art, studied the stars,
hence they deserve to live among the stars.
Or maybe they mastered the art of Buddhism,
peace; your nature. I wonder,
how do they move about?
Do they fly, teleport, levitate,
or gallop over clouds on chariots?
Ate a'waiirirrah...?
Do they see you?
Do they play with the Angels?
Are they as godly as ye?
Do they take in your everlasting beauty?
But beauty does not suite thee,
you are beyond diamonds and roses.
you're marvel and stunning awe;
love- which is the mother of all.
So they must be loving people.
mothers, seekers, believers
No one loves like these do,
and to you they do stay true.
Ate a'waiirirrah...?
Are the trees as beautiful?
Does the wind whisper sweet songs
as it lashes over colourful leaves?
Does the sun shine just as fine?
Or is it a matter of choice that they voice?
The people must be religious,
hearts full of prayer, so pious.
but failed to deal with common sense,
Yet a heart that offers deals with a sixth sense.
and as they prayed, they never thanked but craved,
but they did get to their knees so you handed them keys.
Ate a'waiirirrah...?
What is it like in their heaven?
Their souls must be amicable,
they must be innocent and ignorant.
Do they dwell among the animals?
Innocent animals that only long to live.
so they must dwell humbly together,
for living is their common trait.
This place must be ever green,
with no reason for one to feel green;
for they live seamlessly with nature.
Ate a'waiirirrah...?
Do they live like those in an empire?
Within great wall boundaries,
lead by robin hoods as their providers,
in a realm of their own confines
of cowardice, selfishness and fear;
fear to stand for what is right,
but maybe their good does outweigh their bad.
It must hold those that do bad for good,
Heaven's robin hoods,
stealing the kings jewellery,
and giving it to the needy.
the righteous; yet not so right.
Ate a'waiirirrah...?
Is this where your angel was banished to?
Mr Lucifer, the miscreant.
The child of ye who failed to learn
to stay away from the hot flames.
The host of hell games.
This must be where the bad dwell,
with their tummies absurdly swell,
filled with grid and tons of need.
The grounds they walk must be hot as hell,
the trees in dormancy and their earth ashes.
the oceans must be lit like matches,
the meadows of grass must be molten lava,
the clouds must be gloomy and grey,
the people must yell and scream with so much to say.
Its no wonder the heavens that surround this,
are prone to flames and dark ways.
kibumbah,
Wano awsemba ndidi wo,
This is where you put me to live,
where you have tested many generations,
where you have proved your kindness and patience.
where your love has stood the test of time-
despite the evil and grime,
from us the replicas of your image,
who have decided to stain it and cause you pain.
You have blessed us with plentiful milk and honey,
and trees nourished with fruit,
but we have decide to refine them as money.
We live in beautiful and sunny heaven,
nourished by the dwindling rains;
a beautiful place, with beautiful people,
but some with dark hearts;
hearts filled with greed,
and yearning for power; high power,
the kind we can't even sustain but vainly,
seek it to run through their veins.
we make it who we are,
vandalising your image.
How much longer will we ruin,
this world yet it is our heaven?
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