Slave ships docked Africa’s shores as trade ships
Beyond the coastline, strange, crafty sons invaded.
Greedy-hearts of stone, goaded frolic racket race
Dead to folks’ emotions, of deficient moral grace
“Are they real humans,” misery choked me to ask?
Poor, guiltless, teary-eyes, sobbing hearts defused
Slaves in chains, on bruised and supplicating knees
Weak-trembling arms, lifting their eyes to Heaven:
To die of tsunami, pestilence, chronic-famine would
Be merciful, than to witness my beloved folks perish.
My sable heritage quivered, glued with enraged shame
To nurse those injured, volcanoes rewarded the brave.
Lord, stretch thy justice-hand, ever almighty to save:
To cleanse us daily of demons like eternal blindness.
Africa's Shores - Roland Marke
Read More: Roland Marke