De' Fugitive Slave

The  blood that runs from my veins, 100 years later, I shall free my self, I shall run to the mountain, I shall been upon my knees, I shall take the lashing of the world, I shall not stand still, I shall call upon my brothers, and meet at the table with my sisters, I shall run through the fields, of the black liberation, I shall run no longer shall I stand still, until I bring my people to the mountains, I the mother Moses’ ,I the Malcolm X, I the Medgar, I the Salasi, Marcus Garvey, Heuy, Soldiers of freedom, and face lace warriors,  the hunters  up close with their unwilling horses, the lord said in thunder be  still, and the journey was once more. If I blind my eyes with tears, I will not see the light, If I groan to loud, I will no longer hear my ancestors as they call. I the  slave that stood, could run no longer, I then stood by     the fence, and the charted black bricks, blowing a breath for all those who came before me,  panting for my ancestors who stood before the tree, covered with sweat as each tear, written in blood, the blue print the map that will set me free, and covered with sweat, my eyes that burns ,defiance and desperation, hatred And the bullets that ring upon my head, the loose that hang upon my neck, I shall not stand still, I slowly fall upon my knees’ a loud voice came from the sky, like thunder, prove your loyalty to me, I thy God, I have given to thee, my son, and the mastery of the skies, spoke it said run my son, run, your journey is almost done, and the thong among my neck, and the burns of my risk.

I fail upon my knees, and the loud thunder said again, you are almost their, take your people upon the land of the free, how the twinges that sting like needles, the charted skin, burning from over a 100 years, and the spirits that slowly contained my body, and the sun that I run a trail, and savior said; son you are almost their, take your people home, and the almighty God said in a thunder, Keep your eyes on the eye of the sun, it will guide you across, The murderous disk that lye upon the mind,  planted like a root, determined to live,  he not only sees but He is the hunted slave, who refuse to be free, so I run upon the black rivers and heal my self of the rooted clutches, and the lord look down, and broke the curse of the implanted chains, to keep me in slavery, the lord said just a little more longer my son, your journey is almost ended. clutches the rail of the tree,  my blood oozes from each palm, as the locks of my head Smelled as innocence, and the smooth blackness of ebony, And in the darkness a voice of a swan, and the tears that lye Upon my bronze skin, as I fell upon my knees, I cried upon The lord, in mastery the light stood before me, and Jesus the Son Fail upon his knees and said, your journey is over, I am you, and you are me, you have taken a journey, you are now free.