Though black clouds gather / In the skies of our lives today
And darkness comes at noon / Blocking the rays, blocking the way.
Though the vultures feast / On the carcasses of my sisters and brothers
Lying unburied where they fell / And by them the grieving and weeping mothers.
Though the cold nights are long / And the heavy guns make music
Of tunes alien and strange / Affecting our nerves, scaring the public.
Though we go to church to pray / And nothing changes the melody
Only the dying lay dying / And the rest just dwell in agony.
Though we plant our gardens green / With peanuts and tomatoes and cassava
While the beasts rampage the same / And claim all for themselves, allover.
Though the bells of freedom tolled / And armies returned home to celebrate
Yet the poor go hungry everyday / And others shut out for being late.
South Sudan will rise again one day / From the rubble of this war
Like the Phoenix of old we know / United, powerful and stronger.
South Sudan, I believe.