Of Tides and Turmoil

In the depths of his vast land Hunted the great Bedan-Tro Over the rocks and dry sand Did his hardened bare feet go He was bound for the green field, Where the wild antelopes roam, And a stout spear did he wield, To slay food for precious home But in the brambles nearby (How could Bedan-Tro know then?), Lurked the evil Tupen-Kai, Fallen hunter of good men Who betrayed tribal brothers, For devilish white men of sin, Tupen-Kai captured others; He made slaves of his own kin Bedan-Tro battled them long, And with all his fearsome might, But Tupen’s men were too strong, And defeated him that night And then out strode Tupen-Kai, Wearing hat of silken trim, Looking Bedan in the eye, He fastened chains on him “I am going to take you, Said Tupen-Kai, cold as ice, “To the coast, where they’ll break you; You will be my sacrifice” Then the great Bedan-Tro spat (Indeed, what words could he say?) On Tupen-Kai’s silken hat For which his slaving did pay But Tupen-Kai stayed his knife, For dead slaves were of no use, He spared Bedan-Tro his life, Saving him for more abuse At Tupen’s camp Bedan saw (they in strong cuffs, just as he) Ten more captive slaves, wrists raw, Chained and bound for Fearsome Sea Then they started Fateful Trip, Lasting thirty bright moons long, Hastened onward by the whip, Soothed a little by the song When they reached great Giant Coast Only six slaves did remain, Two had starved, one had roast, Two more had been shot and slain At the Great Coast Bedan-Tro Was helpless to stop a thing: Sold by Tupen-Kai the Low For beads and a shiny ring Off strode evil Tupen-Kai More kin Africans to seek Bedan wished to see him die, But he was hot, broken, weak Bedan now saw his new lord, Tall, fat, and ghostly pale white, He led Bedan by the sword To a dungeon that same night There they stayed, one hundred men For a time above one week, In a room built for just ten Without light, which all men seek But Bedan finally saw His object of most desire, Sweet light, pure, intense, and raw, Coming from Great Ball of Fire For he was at long last led Out of deep and darkened gloom Not to freedom, but instead Just the next stage of his doom Thus he was forced by strong hand On a rough and dirty trip Down the beach and through the sand To a huge beast of a ship Whither would this beast take him? This, great Bedan-Tro knew not But he knew, it would break him, For the chains could not be fought The End