She was a Queen who wore a crown
and reigned on skin dark and brown.
Slaves toiled, yet her men whipped them.
It went on for centuries, this bloody game.
Sweat, blood and tears fell on the grass,
none saw, none heard the echoes, Alas!
The surviving women, children were few,
those tormented tears fell like winter dew.
Those who didn't bow before the crown,
were doomed to Hell in a raging frown.
The Lord must have bowed in shame,
for the ghastly deeds in Queen's name.
Wake up! What is this sleep befallen on you,
where enormity is tormented by the few?
Unfold your arms, look on with steady eyes,
and let revolt usurp the throne in surprise!
Prasenjit©1997-2022
No comments:
Post a Comment