La Malediction des Covid 800k
By the crossroads where spirits walk,
By the drumbeat and serpent's talk,
I call the Loa to twist his fate,
Let fire consume his throne of hate.
May his tongue swell with lies unsaid,
And his shadow flee from the righteous dead.
Let his gold turn to bone, his name to dust,
As the veve fades and the spirits distrust.
Papa Legba, open the gate -
Let justice dance and seal his fate.