So am I as the slave, whose blood was spilled
In a life destroyed and rife with pain,
That knows its brokenness prostrate and killed
Dulling the unconscious mind in refrain.
Therefore, we long for the day we are freed,
And, ne’er let us return to such vile hate.
Like diamonds held hostage in shameful greed,
Our restoration of faith’s redeemed fate.
So with time may healing ne’er let us rest,
Nor forget this tragedy of ages
To make amends for all such suff’ring breast
For poised are we as fury rages
Healing those who conjure such images
By past made new let us turn the pages.