This World Called Africa

Alone, lost alone
In this world called Africa

The high, sparse grass
Waving in the wind

Dancing, moving,
Like a chant in full sway

The drums rolling,
The dancing and beating

The clack of bones,
Dry bones floating on the wind

The sweet smell of spice,
Of roses, of pepper trees

Lost, alone, lost
In this world called Africa

The browns and reds,
The dark, heavy earth

The rhythms, the dancing
On a dark, cloudy day

The fire, the spark
The smoke surrounding

Enveloping, closing in
Taking the air away

In this world,
this frightful world,
In this world called Africa