Kalid Jama
Puntland, the land of my parent's pride,
Where mountains rise and oceans collide
They call you barren, they call you torn,
But they can’t see where hope was born.
They see your struggles, your pain, your scars,
But not your peaks that touch the stars.
Your windswept dunes, your endless skies,
Hold stories bold, unseen by their eyes.
They miss the culture, the songs, the dance,
The frankincense breeze, your ancient stance.
They know the drought, but not the fight,
Nor how you rise through the darkest night.
Oh Puntland, misunderstood and unseen,
You’re more than famine, more than dreams.
Your cliffs, your seas, your sacred sand,
A cradle of life, my homeland stands.
Let them see your skies and seas,
Your fragrant winds, your ancient trees.
For in their hearts, you’ll shine bright,
Puntland, my homeland, my heart, my light.
CLAMOR 