Innocence torn from mothers, transported and sold within stolen lands. Servitude chained to persecution, knowledge denied to control minds. Spirits of courage, longing for something better, movements kept secluded within the cover of night. Paths plotted north towards the trail of rumors; folklore tempting courage to stare in the eyes of death. Railroads built underground, transporting passengers by silent locomotion. Days become decades, the cries of children carrying the message from generation to generation. Equality the eternal object of desire. Hearts gripping hope that one morning, someday, all will be free.
One Mere Mortal
Dealing with this thing called "Life".
Huh, you are quite a poet and a talented artist. Thank you for that compelling, provocative, insightful read of where a human being stood in the life of slavery. I know, I have years of research, but it is not often you come across a gem like this. I would like to read your other posts. I just opened my own blog, quite different from yours of course, but it covers everything from the beginning of slavery until now, it is extremely interesting and a great source of reference for someone like you if you are interested. I’m Penny, you are quite a novelist.
You’ve encompassed a great deal of African Amercian history into these lines…well said.
Like but horrendous heartache. Love David