This path has become so easy to travel, The corners printed at the tip of my brain. Head straight to meet up sorrow street, turn right at the second corner and catch sad road. When you reach it, right on your left is poor avenue.
Yet the streets do not tell the whole story. I am not defined by the path I travel. I have hope as wide as a swallow's wings. MY eyes as sharp as those of an eagle. I keep focus on the kill, vision on my dream.
From sun set to sun rise, I continue the hunt. My heart races faster than a hungry cheetah. I overcome every sharp turn and come out clean. Without noticing the blood running from my eyes, I rush towards you like the stallion I am.
I am not only a jungle but I live in the jungle. The inside of my body lies the souls of my people. My flesh is the dust I lift at gunshot. The pain that falls upon me washes the sweat away, I am always on the set to take off.
As Africa and as African, the journey never ends.
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