I woke up in the middle of the night
And peeped out through my window,
I could hear the chants piercing the silence,
Black is no longer black and
The Coloured is no longer coloured

The moonlight covered the beautiful sky,
The stars in the sky glorified the beauty,
The leaves of the trees were glistening
With the moonlight falling on it.

But there was something hidden
in this beautiful night because
I could still hear the chants,
Black is no longer black and
The Coloured is no longer coloured

I shut all the windows of the room
And tried to fall back to sleep
But I could still hear the chants
Black is no longer black and
The Coloured is no longer coloured

I dashed outside in the dark,
The chants broke the stillness,
I could hear the chants coming closer,
Black is no longer black and
Coloured is no longer colored

The gleaming lights in the forest
Caught my very attention
And I ran towards the chants
Black is no longer black and
The Coloured is no longer coloured.

I saw a group of mystic women
All dressed in black with the cloak
Covering half of their face
And leaving the lips open to chant,
Black is no longer black and
The coloured is no longer coloured

Their chants grew louder and louder,
Piercing through the silence of the night,
Black is no longer black and
The coloured is no longer coloured

They raised their wands together,
Pointing at the moon in the sky,
The moon turned black with
A gleaming ring forming around it

I quickly hid behind a tree.
They were proliferating at every step,
Thousands of the mystic women,
Now, were marching towards the town

Their chants grew raucous and shrill,
Waking up the whole town,
Black is no longer black
And coloured is no longer coloured.

They raised their wands again
And darkness enveloped the town
They continued their chants,
Black is no longer black and
The coloured is no longer coloured.

Time raced by at a breakneck pace.
The mystic women engulfed the town,
Only the noise was of the chants,
Black is no longer black and
the Coloured is no longer coloured.

The sun hid behind the moon
And didn’t show up its light
The mystic women force halted,
They spewed hot air everywhere,
Making the wintery climate hot as fire.

The crowd watched their every move,
With a pin drop silence
And fear coursing through their veins.
The mystic women halted their chants
And looked dead in the eyes of the people.

A mystic woman came forward from the force.
She pointed at me and called me nearer,
My blood grew colder and fear covered my soul.
I slowly walked near to her
Unaware of what would she do.

She chanted fervently looking at the sky,
Black is no longer black and
the coloured is no longer coloured

Then she took out a knife from the pocket
Of her dark black cloak.
She pulled me closer and
plunged the knife into my thumb.

Ahhh! I screamed in pain,
Drops of red blood fell on the ground,
Then all the mystic women forcefully,
Pierced the knives in every person’s thumb,
splattering the blood on the ground.

“Show us the difference”, mystic women shouted.
The crowd looked on the ground,
Where every drop of blood has mixed,
The colour red covered the ground
And none can differentiate.

The women chanted vehemently,
Black is no longer black and
The coloured is no longer coloured,
And disappeared with the wind.

My eyes opened and I was on my bed,
Alas! It was a dream I thought
And then I suddenly heard the chant,
Black is no longer Black and
The coloured is no longer coloured.