Knowing you was like a scent of red roses
blossoming amidst thorns...

I can feel your presence
with grace my heart you fill with unending joy...

World so plain
Plain from realization...

You have become a disgrace
The society values you no more...

While we are busy thinking.
Thinking of how miserable life is...

Hear my cry, O Lord
Shower us the people of Kenya with your mercies...

In my sleep, I dreamt of a ship,
Larger not, like a fire pot...

Will tell you something,
something I have always said to myself...

Open my eyes, Make me see
See the opportunities, flashing before me...

A broken flower, dying without water
A spoiled child, knows nothing about respect...

Death is another way of looking.
The moon of death is older...

The bottom of things is neither life nor death.
My proof is...