Makhosonke Dhlamini

Hands of clay upon the djembe drum
they dance not in vain, but to conceive
sweet melodies which sings inside the rhythm
of hope to heal the heart from the desert of hunger
...

A young man look at his hand and cogitate
a woman said, why your hand?
Young men replied it is Art.
...

We played our heart
The passion of art
Crafted by combination
Of skills and zeal
...

We tasted the salt of our tears
saw the light when the birds craft the nest
saw the wind sweep the leave when June
is shivering in winter.
...

Militant minds
Beauty of the dream
In honor of the command our soul
was wounded.
...

Birds of heaven
When you fly high pass my greetings
to thy Creator.
...

Tears of Monk
Guilty of Priest
Miscarriage of Justice.
...

At the edge of the death of beauty
When all music sings grief
We find no meaningless in existence of life.
...

Let thy beauty die not in the sun
thy fragrance perfume the earth

Let thy thorns protect you from those you
...

When you fall

Remember to rise
Hear your dreams
...