She looks away, her gaze shifts,
What is she thinking, so lost in her black and white world?
Acid tears run down her cheeks.
The brilliant amber eyes,
Their fire flickers.

Many a battle they have seen.

Headstrong, yet capricious.
From the ashes they have risen,
And march to the beaches,

They will.

O she herself is a tempest,

But her greatest fear and challenge,

The blazing storm within her, of course!


She runs, runs, runs away from herself.

She still aspires, and enquires,

But sometimes she douses her fires.  


And now she looks hither; our eyes meet.
I see the pain, I see the flaming sting,

Oh! If only a doctor I could’ve been.
I see it all, but can’t do a thing.


Fierce Amazon!
I see your suffering! I see your distress!
Pray tell us, why do you go down this path,
Of torment and agony?

You are on a pyre of your own.


She, most brave, erupts into laughter.

I wish to be a Valkyrie;
Wish to vanquish my fears.

Wish to break these chains in my mind,

And fly, fly, fly away!

Man is weak; he is terrified.

Time for us to rise.
Second-choice warriors we are no longer.
We are here to conquer!

With those words she gallops off,

Into the starry night.
Spear in one hand, whip in the other;
Astride on her magical horse.

And as her figure becomes but a distant dot,
Sunshine beams through the land.
The trees shake, the volcanoes blaze.
Long Live! Long Live! The commons roar.

Hush! Hush! Shhhh…
Her scars run deep,
She is a warrior, a warrior.
Bittersweet memories still vex her sleep;

The amber in those elegant eyes glows,

Ever stronger,

Yet her heart still silently weeps…

We acknowledge the Ngunnawal and Ngambri people, who are the Traditional Custodians of the land on which Woroni, Woroni Radio and Woroni TV are created, edited, published, printed and distributed. We pay our respects to Elders past and present. We acknowledge that the name Woroni was taken from the Wadi Wadi Nation without permission, and we are striving to do better for future reconciliation.