Re-imagining Tales of Faith.

I sing not a song,
Different from the obscenities,
You've laboured listening to all along.
This is another seed of worries...

I come not with something new,
Woman, I'm also a man; with a penis and beard,
Thinner and longer and bushy, see?
But could dig where others have failed.

I fold not my limbs,
At this age, to dance so awkwardly,
As if I've itching buttocks...
No, Waridi, take me not wrongly.

My soul I sing,
My heart dances along,
Strike your banjo,
Smuggle herein not maringo...

I have for long walked,
Along this narrow path,
Why can't you take me home?
I am really hurt and tired...

Let's not today live,
On a diet of yesterday's faults.
We could tomorrow starve,
Whilst others feast on fruits,
Of the word...
(c) Wafula p'Khisa.