The nation without a soul II: The lions rule the grassland
The lions kingdom only grows grass
Yea
And the lions leave their kingdom
Yea
The lambs got eaten before they could herd
Yea
The grass is lush and inviting
Yea
Only the unlettered are deceived
Yea
The lions rule this kingdom
Yea
The lions don’t eat grass
Yea
And the deer can’t run fast enough
Yea
And the lions must have their meal
Yea
So the herds get eaten young
Yea
And the lion is the king of the grasslands
Tufia !!
What will the diviner say
As the beads he flung on the mat
Slowly climbed over each other
Settling in pattern of foreboding
The black arrayed against the white
The trained eye seeing the evil
Coiled and waiting to spring
What would the elders scream
When the diviner relays his divination
Of the pattern on his mat
And the portents from the gods
The propitiation that has been asked
A head for a head, a soul for a soul?
What would the young shout
When asked for their portion of the sacrifice
A head for a head, a soul for a soul
A sacrifice to propitiate the gods
For the sins of the elders
Who have invited the diviner
Who cast the divination beans?
What would the earth say
When told of the sacrifice
To come from generation to generation
A head for a head, blood left on the tarmac
A soul for a soul, conscience left in the vaults
The diviner afraid of the truth
Elders afraid of their sins?
Tufia !!
the sad old man
Sits by the dying embers
Sadly he inspects the flickers
For clues but finds none
He stirs up the ash
Trying to divine
From the patterns of dust
clues but finds none.
The young man
Slowly grows old
But his corn field
Is barely enough to
Pay for his sweat
And little is left over for his donkey
Though his effort has been
Strung out from day to day
The rich man is dying
On his water bed
But his gold won’t follow him
And the rats and skulls
Now no longer afraid
Are nibbling at his toes
And fitting out his robes
As the night comes to
The eyes that flashed green
The sad old man
Can read how the pebbles fall
And he can see the long queue
Of ghouls demanding settlement
Of blood covered by the rich man’s robe
The spirit of young men denied rest
Some day he will call the young man
And tell him his father was rich
But his oath was bloody.
