One Creation


Many mighty ones have fallen
to the sharp bladed spear.
The vanquished surrender,
silent prisoners are taken.
Green jungle is filled
with the screams of the dying.
Green jungle is filled
with the flesh of the dead.

The lion, the tiger,
the hungry leopard
crouch down in silence
awaiting their feast.
The battles has ended,
their table made ready.
Tonight they will dine
on meat freshly killed.

A king on his wooden throne
holds onto absolute power.
His brave warriors have won
a great victory this day.

Humanity has become
a living treasure.
Slaves will be traded
for cloth and for gold.

Tomorrow they will take
the long, weary trail,
that leads from their homeland
to the great distant sea.
Castles of stone,
and damp, cold dungeons,
wait for the captives,
that use to be free.


From darkness they are taken,
young men and young women.
Cruel shackles cut deep
into black, quivering flesh.

The door of no return
lies open and beckons.
Ships with white sails
are ready and waiting.
Red blood drips from wounds
as black whips bite deep.

Men, women stay silent
as indignity falls on them.
They face the unknown
with courage and honour.

A last glimpse of dear homeland
fills eyes of the disheartened.
One last hungry look
then they are shoved into darkness.

The odour of the long dead
fill nostrils that once breathed sweet flowers.
Rats and disease become their new bed.
Few of those who sail
will see end to the journey.
Many will sleep in the waves of the sea.


Sweat burns the eyes
as gaunt frames bend.
Blood drips from black hands
as white cotton balls are picked.
Pinafores and white frocks
for great ladies are woven
from the tears of the battered,
from the souls of the innocent.

Tobacco is smoked, fine brandy is drunk
by rich gentlemen wearing coats
paid for by the death of their chattel.
Dogs under their tables
are treated far better than men.

When masters look into dark eyes,
rebellion is kept well hidden.
Songs of freedom are sung
when the sun goes to rest.
Great armies do battle
in the struggle for honour.
Brothers, fathers are killed
to free the down trodden.


There is only one creation,
there is only one God
and we are his children.
We are all brothers
no matter the color of our skin.

A bold prince of Egypt,
a low Hebrew slave,
took his people from repression
to the promised land.

A great orator, a black preacher
stretched out blood stained hands,
to the white oppressor
and to the poor black man.
He lead them to the mountain top
and showed them the promised land.

Out of great tribulation,
from underneath burdens
that seem too hard to bear.
Out of ignoble slavery,
out of chains and shackles,
indeed good things can be.

If it was not for the bondage of Egypt
there would be no Holy land.
If it were not for slavery
where would you be?


1 Comment

Filed under Literature

One response to “One Creation

  1. Michael

    That’s probably a question that’d take me longer than a day to figure out, so I’ll say ‘I don’t know’ and leave it at that. While I can work through alternate histories (eventually), I usually need a functioning brain for them and I’m usually fresh out at 8:40 in the morning.

    That being said, I like them. You’ve got a flare for using simple language to deliver a concrete image, which is laudable. Keep it up!

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