(a poem)
Considering many ancestors, who remain unsung. Blended into obscurity, their true stories, suspiciously undone.
Invisible faces, nameless people, completely unseen. They were once a mighty kingdom. Some were even kings and queens. They were never shown respect, nor recognized for their contributions. History gave them nothing, accept, oppression, misery, and persecution. Their names were never chanted, nothing written to remember there lives. But those brave souls suffered through hell, and Satan himself to survive.
Though battered, broken and crushed, they never gave up the fight. They continued to prevail with little hope in sight. Over 400 years of darkness, without the tiniest spec of light. A pitiful fragmented people, crawl forward faithfully through the darkest night.
Close to death, they kept on breathing, surviving for future children, they would never know. Praying for a better life, while enduring endless woe. As their precious babies were stolen, young daughters raped before their eyes. Many rivers could have been created from all the tears they cried. Under unimaginable circumstances, they kept going that’s why I am here. If they had lost their will to live, then I would disappear.
With body and will, completely beaten, everything they owned stripped away, they continued to believe GOD would bring them a brighter day.
Even though those brave soldiers died before that day could come. I shall never forget the mighty stock that I came from. My DNA connects me to many nameless, faceless kings. Who will always be remembered in poems I write, and songs I sing,
