As we marched north along the great serpent river,
Our sorrows were unleashed upon the world,
Over the death of our saviour, the beautiful spiritual leader.
She rescued us from death, and nurtured us out of our depression,
And she healed our great nation, and made the headlines in all the world's papers.
In a sense, she is a goddess, bringing joyfulness back to the hearts of our great nation.
But we let her slip out of our grasp, and now we mourn in black and white.
Colour has seeped from those rosy cheeks, as it has to our world.
She was our world, and always will be.
She was like the greatest lover, cherishing our hearts and our feelings in her own, like a mother.
She was the mother of the country, but now she has gone from our sight.
Now buried six feet under the ground in the humbliest of buildings,
That's what she would have wanted, for she was for the people, not for herself.
She raised us into the forelight of the world's centre stage, kicking out the richer countries.
What would we do without her.
But now her descent into immortality has begun, and we weep for our loss.
But she stands tall and proud with the other great figures of history, and she always will be classed as one.
In our hearts, forever.
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