In the dark, dark night of the very last night the soul is pawned to the mark of the beast for the cent and rand. So the voice of so many loved ones rises from a mass grave, yes, a dead land.

Under Raca’s oppressor’s hand we have lived and we have died, yes, for you South Africa. In the last light of the once dying pure lamp now almost completely burnt out, to their rescue a cast out remnant stands on one side with nowhere a nation or fatherland any more. But they still have their God and protectively He holds His Great hand over them.   Deep in the middle of the dark, dark night of the very last evening from many a grave the song of lamentation of fallen heroes rises; ‘died in vain for you our South Africa’. With the mountains that answers and the bitter echo thereof catch the last survivors unawares, because he who lives merely for a country is eternally caught up in matter with only the word treason burned into their soul. Where was the old poet’s mind, he should rather have burned the following words into a nation’s heart; for God and for our neighbours and then for ourselves, we will live for you oh land and we will die for you South Africa.