Walking with the rising morning sun,
Along these Kampala streets,
Bright, warm, and beautiful,
My mind leaves me,
It travels through my soul and thoughts.
I can no longer feel myself alive,
But still,
I walk on, slowly traveling,
Unknowingly counting the steps,
400 to be precise.
But why does this happen to me,
Why does my soul leave me,
Why does this mind travel,
Then it hits me,
Mine is a temple of the Lord.
