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Cruelly cold night by the camp fire,
Knees hunched, heads bowed and huddled bodies pile,
Fear grips at man’s heart, many flee to places to hide not to die
Terror reaches out from across the Nile
Squeezing hard, shriveling into leprous bulbous
Hearts, souls and will once bursting free.
Hushed tones creep, silently it does, down through the river bed it breeds
Waiting patiently, locked in time and bordered in space
Hushed tones sent down the Nile
Leaps at women and children in fright at night
Hushed tones,
Painted in red, flowing steady and ever ready,
Huddled heads proclaim war, while hushed tones ponder escape already.
Whispers,
Birthed in the Nile,
Join hands with sisters in the Niger,
Greeting distant cousins at Senegal basin,
Where they conspire with long-lost brothers in Congo, racing
To corral the valiant hearts of men,
Who huddle and cuddle,
By the violently violent fall of
Orange, Limpopo and Zambezi.
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