Time Echoes My Name

I dream of a freedom I will never truly have
For I find myself branded with a slave name
And never knowing the historical truth
From whence I came.

Unknown are the the truths
About my roots.
For in darkness were my ancestors shrouded.
By darkness were my ancestors bounded;
Entombed in the belly of a beast
That consumed but did not feast.

Bounded by shackles and chains
Like cattle were they sheltered from the rain
But not the relenting pain.
Longing missing wives
Longing for their shattered lives.

All above is the thunderstorm,
All around is the darkness;
Energized by the an insistent drumming.
A demonic summoning.

There can be heard in the wailing
The voices of the damned around and about
The behemoth of a boat.
Above is the voices of their Slavers shouts.

A torturous voyage across a vast watery space
The survivors destined to a place
Where they were never the same
Where they were given their Slave Master's name.

Now here I sit wondering from whence I came.
Where was my ancestors home
Before the gladiatorial pits of Rome;
Before the cane fields,
The bitter sweetness that their labour yields;
Before the cotton plantations,
The darkness wroth white harvest that built nations.
Before the quarry and mines
Which left many blind.

Darkness yields
Is a past concealed.
Light fields
Nothing is revealed.
Forgotten by time
All but the last name
Is truly mine.
Time echoes my name.
Whispers of whence I came.

© PDONEIL Jan 2016