Abrhaley stands and clears his throat, a story to unfold
To find the peace and obtain the calm, we must be brave and bold
Don’t look at pieces, one by one, or view them in a blur
A broken lens will only hide the dangers that occur
The Horn of Africa demands a vision deep and wide
To see the ghosts of history with nowhere left to hide.
Oh, the ages roll like a heavy stone, from the mountains to the sea
From principalities to empires, through feudalism to tyranny
Tracing every footprint, the triumph and the fear
To unravel the confusion, and the wars that we still hear.
Eight centuries before the Christ, the Era of the Small
The Principalities arose, before the Aksum call
Then the Aksumite Era bloomed, a player on the stage
Expansion and a golden throne, the wonders of the age
But even empires have an end, they wither and they wane
Leaving Agaw in the shadows, through the architectural rain
The “Lost History” was written there in rock and holy ground
Though the records of their ruling years are nowhere to be found.
Oh, the ages roll like a heavy stone, from the mountains to the sea
From principalities to empires, through feudalism to tyranny
Tracing every footprint, the triumph and the fear
To unravel the confusion, and the wars that we still hear.
Then marched the House of Amhara, with no fixed place to rest
A kingdom of tents, by trials oppressed
Then the Era of Desolation, when the skies turned black with smoke
Adel wars and Jesuit fire, and the heavy Turkish yoke
From the ruins rose Gondar, in a castle designed
A fixed throne for the Emperor, with isolation in mind.
But the center could not hold its grip, the Era of the Prince
Where puppet crowns were traded fast, and provincial swords became restless since
Clashing for the prestige, clashing for the gain
Until the Princely Kings stood to mend the divided reign
From Quara, Enderta, Showa, they tried to forge the one
While the shadow of the European reached for the African sun.
Now we walk the Era of Tyrants, since the year of seventy-four
Where the party and the person lead the people into war
Marxist dreams, ethnic divides, and the autocrat’s decree
The same old fire burning in the name of “liberty”.
Abrhaley says the path to peace is etched in the past
Understand the times, if you want peace to last.