Solomonkell33

The blood of a Warrior 

runs warm in my veins. 

The blood of a Warrior 

who harvested grains 

And endured the pains of 

the whips and the chains 

Now flows through my brain, 

but I'm not ashamed.

Similar genes I share with the Kings 

And the Warriors who once had 

the freedom to sing 

The hymns of their homeland, 

where freedom could ring.

I've also inherited the 

bulk of the feelings 

Of prisoners made slaves in 

the midst of the dealings 

Of the slavemaster's rapings and 

whippings and killings

Of those mighty warriors who 

weren't so willing

To be shackled and placed 

In the bottom of ships sharing limited space 

In which they could barely breathe. 

They were often decieved by the 

tongues of the thieves 

And were sentenced to breathe in 

the land of the free.

When they cried out for mercy, 

there was none in store 

They were beaten till sores 

were more common than pores 

On the skin, and the women regarded 

as whores.

Then Freedom's doors were unlocked by a war 

But it led to new perils not present before 

Such as men in white robes who could not 

be ignored.

But the biggest of tasks that 

my ancestors had 

Was to look towards the future 

and bury the past. 

I'm part of that future, 

and still it is vast. 

Now I'm fighting the battle 

and it won't be the last.