Freedom At Last

Is life so sweet or peace so dear,
to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery?
Our freedom for a little bread we sell
and drudge under some foolish masters’ ken
who rates us as if we peer with the pen.
At eve should be the time, they said
“To close their dreams in despair.”

At that pleasant day,
Our work was over,
Our toil was done.
At the set of the sun,
we await our wages
but the wages of death they did lay at our feet.
More strong were it’s stench we could not bear.
Someday,we will live above this,
in liberty or in death!
In our dreams,
a platter of gold laid at our feet
walking majestically on the softness of beauty,
while the glory of sun set above our head,
and our gardens filled with flowers,
that we bask in such a life incredibly sustainable.
Could our dreams match our realities?
for if they can,
we shall sail like the simplicity of the breeze in cloud nine.
But this is not the case as we walk each day the road of freedom,
with our lamp of hope loosing its glow.
Arise comrades, let the sons of the circumcised rejoice,
for hope lies in the tunnel of our thought,
and we shall some day gaze at the rumblings of them,
like the raging tides of many waters,
then shall we sing freed! freed at last!

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