Munashe Sibanda
Lifted, lifted, lifted, he rises, he falls, he is destroyed.
Given, given, given, he was chosen, among us, he went rogue,“Listen, given, retribution, oh my!
Chaos among us, the reckoning.
Risen, given, to the lifted, war I see war, as they turned, they won’t be a reverse of happenings.
A time of war, a time of peace, a season to sharpen your bravery, a season to brew your solace.
How I see a land lose its glory and captivated from the roots, a year to say aha, a session to say I rise.
How the thief is going to lose his wares, how the moon is going to withdraw its sight, the sun taking vengeance.
Risen, lifted, oh you were given, I cannot sufficiently wait, for the day I raise the shout.
We were wrought in the circumstances of war, broke the commandment needed for blessing, we could only say forgive us.
The accuser took his chance at the stand and said he would argue against our redemption, no blessing to find us.
He took what was ours, fed his flesh with our feasts, oh my blabber, hear now thunder.
Heated, reason, for a vile season, we will come, they will rise, you will know no escape.
Given the ways, you chose greatness over compliance.
Risen in times before the season was raptured.
Lifted, yourself from grace to the vile factors of lust.
The reckoning, we come, we rise, you will see none of us.
