A people freed cry out for bondage
For the familiar feeling of metal
Shackled ankles and striped backs
Noses hunger for the scent of
Earth mingled with blood
In fear their eyes are blind to the desert lily
Ears deaf to the churning wind
Filled with the beating wings of quail
Souls long deeply for paradise unknown
But the lost island of dreams. yet immaterial
Does not provide sufficient memory
Deemed unworthy of trust, its beauty
Is thrust aside, forsaken for the comfort of the slave
We are the slaves whose weakened contempt
Strengthens the chained muscles of our arms
Whose eyes, blurred by tears of despond
Blink forth rivers likened to the bloody Nile
From which we have been freed
"How can this promise surpass all
That we have known before?"
No comments:
Post a Comment