These eyes have seen my people shackled,
cramped in ships, witnessed masters snatch
babies from mothers’ arms, and auctions of
husbands and fathers.
These eyes have seen the face of torment,
stared into the eyes of hate,
they’ve witnessed mouths shut-
and uttered prayers in silence.
These eyes witnessed ears deafen
from the loud wails of treacherous acts-
These eyes were forced to see souls tossed in the
belly of satan’s abyss-
These eyes flowed with tears like rivers
when the predators ran rampant like scavengers-
these eyes saw the blood baptisms of my people
since the days of my youth.
I’ve questioned how long captors would taunt others like prey-
to them, their despicable acts were like child’s play-
acts of terrorism were first nature.
I could only lament in my spirit.
I could only pray, but I dream often.
In dreams are where my eyes held visions of hope.
If instead of dreaming I could have given my soul
I’d expand and create new territories-
if instead of dreaming there my people could escape.
I’d died if one death was the price to pay
to set people free-
because these eyes have seen
more than a soul should see.