Blood ’twixt Green & Yellow
When the waves wash off our coast
Not far from the Chariot of God, our boast
Spitting flames golden yellow
Telling of forebears’ Sorrow
In
In our twisted tongue, Limbe
We dream the flames will be out
When the waves have come and gone
We wake up to see nothing undone
Not even the blood stain ’twixt green and yellow
On the flag flapping as the waves goad us follow
Not as our parents did with the République
That burnt, killed & buried
Where Paul as Jo before does pout. Waves of Anger
