Mud-caked boots
Sink into the human roots
Habesha people make their homes
Of sticks and stone
Ancestral bones asleep beneath  
The Rasta prince’s lion throne
Divining water into honey wine
An extra month, some years behind
A sense of time unfettered by
Gregorian design
For here is where imperials in arms
Still fear to tread
But Terrors Red still fed the masses
With some promise broken bread
And circuses of war and bloodshed
Left a union in its stead
It stands unconquered on the continent
A gateway to the heavens
Conjures torrents from the halkan sky
With mighty independence
To remind the lone ferenji
Of its wild zealot prayer
And then at peace it shares its secret
Unrequited love affair