When people are shut off
When their mood is killed
When leaders repress them
When they feel let down
When their vision is blurred

He tours their emotions
He reads their silence
He stands to speak for them
He is their hero and patriot
He is a Somali artist
He is the voice of the people
He is the lamp of peace and glory

With his courage and wisdom
He defends the rights of the people
But no one is bothering to refuel the lamp
Somali artists are no better than a forlorn
In their souls they bear scars of neglect

Civil war greatly damaged their institution
Their accomplishment had gone with the wind
They are now a voice in the depths of the rubble

Hardly their words are reaching anywhere
People only listen to blood thirsty politicians
That is why they fell in the tentacles of anarchy
That is why the wounds of war fester wildly
That is why the scars of strife are unhealed