PoetrySad Poems

Woe to Slavery

When the days were still young
Time rang itself for Africans
To welcome white visitors
From the coast of white lands.
visitors with a vision of slavery
They said we had found those
To till our ground and maid servants,
Let hunt out the fool as prey
The days grew like an elephant’s offspring to get rid of this loathsome thought, but before then, freedom was planted as a bamboo tree, before it could grow up as freedom, slavery inherited the land.

Bumpy on Africans, tons of slave
Different strokes on the face of Africans
Africans were covered with snow
A white snow dressed like nightmare
The earth spelled thaw on Africans
Conky became street of emptiness
Slaves are moulded without grasping.
A hot fog in the heart of an innocent.
Pain grew as a mature ostrich
Cries grew everyday, time is unbound
An alien has barged into our land
Torment became a lifestyle
An awful meal is given without starving.
Web became an escape route
But a hot knight twist wisdom as ignorance
Woe to the sky for opening the gate of Africa.
Our gate could had been guarded by strength
But our African cock is asleep.

The edges of our thoughts were exchanged,
Our river flowed to the city of slavery
As an attachment to build the world of agony in absence of our mind.
Our company dissolved like the clouds
Rain fell from the clouds of Africa’s eyes.
Were African gods dizzy to help?
Or were our rivers also knit to demons?
Why is that African rivers betrayed Africans for white demons to come in?

The council of fear tore the tissue of our ideas
Chain became the thread our hope
The grave of our fathers mourn over us
A strange event has happened in the land of honey
By those, who the gods have given over us
To dance like a burning fire
Our desires were tormented with fire
Cries became a lifestyle
Freedom went on a tour
Slaves became the master of donkey
Flocks were painted with joy,
Now freedom is seen,
The staff of freedom was given,
The swift grabbed it
The burning candle retained it thread
But the candle that lost its thread is a memory for the wax.

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