from the book

“On Zambezi’s bones the storms were born, Where copper sang and the sky was torn; When gods walked low and giants roared, And men held relics they couldn’t afford. A coin of flame, a stone of blood, Turned brother to shadow and river to flood; For every gift the heavens gave, They carved a price no soul could save. So heed the curse the elders hide, What sinks in Zambezi does not always die; And when the copper coins call again, The storms return to judge all men.”