A voice rose, A flame igniting the dawn, Thomas Sankara, the son of the soil, Who showed us how to stand tall, with our heads held up high. With a fist full of dreams, And a heart wide as the sky, He whispered to Africa, “You are enough, you are free.” He called us to […]
The drumming has ceased, Once they sang of harvest, now they echo in the hills, A different beat—filled with grief, shattered peace, Where we used to dance, now thick and unyielding dust settles. Fires burn where homes once stood, Flames licking at memories, consuming lives into ash. Our children, with their eyes wide open, stare
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