Flies all green and buzz'n in this dungeon of despair.
Waiting as they lick their wings at the suffering minds down here.
Stale air is hot and rank—diseased, thick, humid. Move swift Mzungu, do not breathe, do not breathe! Hall too narrow, sweat‐soaked bodies, babies cry, old men stare blindly through glaucoma eyes.
Alas, give in… breathe deep.
Dark air burns the lungs with the pain of shackles, chains, HIV and malaria. Mzungu stop, you are with them. You are their brother.