in Africa the blackest of men was walking
and no one knew him for who he was for his skin is white
and in Africa a glowing being was raised up and no one knew him for to know him was death
the path was treacherous and many names were wrought in gold
for all who followed there was joy to behold for all who thought and followed their hearts there was dread , a deep and old dread
In the light all colour is one
in the bright all sight is blight
and in the future all past is lost
for in the Now there is awe
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