Do you still kill; do you still steal people and demand for money?
Do you still claim it is your own, your inheritance?
It's going, its drying up,
Our "gold" is almost gone,
What we killed for is now making us poor.
A woman with so much wealth lives her life daily
In lack, penury and pains, what an irony!
She cries,
did she think it will last forever, its drying up,
she has hope yet she doesn't know it yet.
She forgets she didn't live on it yesteryear.
For her challenges began when she chose to live another woman's dream.
Her maker set her apart for greatness, she chose another path,
a path that seemed right to her.
Hear me, return to your husband,
thy Maker, seek help,
open your eyes to see that scattered all around you are sources of wealth.
take your focus off your so called "black gold"
there is green gold too, dig for it, mine for it and you will find it gushing non - stop.
