The Way by Zack Hemsey
In The Claws
of a Cold Cruel Night
(for the victims of the slave trade that is still going on
all over the world on so many levels even here in my own country)
Clasped in the claws of a cold cruel night
I battled to breathe and I struggled to fight
With the terror that hooked me and took me away
Far from the fire and the safety of day.
In the arms of the awful and hopelessly lost
To pay just a fraction of what my life cost
And though I was broken, the merchandise, marred
There were some who were looking for the thing that was scarred.
And they circled around me, more vultures than men
Reaching and touching and reaching again
And I bit at their fingers and I hit at their eyes
And they laughed at my despair and crowed at my cries.
In the depths of the desert, in the forests, forlorn
Slave markets for creatures in feminine form
In cages of steel and ropes without pity
Taken from home and village and city.
For the want of a woman, for the need of a night
We were captured and hidden from rescuers' sight
By men who were soul-less and wanton with lust
They shattered our innocence, they destroyed our trust.
And we prayed to our fathers and we called to the sky
As we listened in silence to the scream and the sigh
Of our sisters before us in the tents of the knave
Who gave in and gave up when no one came to save.
I had long dreamed since childhood of a love of my own
A husband and children and a sweet little home
Living free in my country, loving free in the arms
Of a man who would love me and keep me from harm.
For my mother had promised he would come one fine day
Sweep me off my feet and would carry me away
To the dream and the passion and the joy of my heart
But the dream's dying in me before it could start.
I'm a child! I'm a child! I'm still young and not old
I am more than this flesh, I am spirit and soul
You can't buy me with money or own me as chattel
I am human and worth more than fields full of cattle.
My eyes filled with tears, I can hardly see now
They tell me to follow, they make me to bow
They pull on my hair, they bruise and they squeeze
Like traders at market with fruit ripened to please.
But the fire in my heart and the fight in my fist
Gives me courage to say No, I won't go like this!
You can kill me and burn me and throw me away
But none of you devils will own me this day!
And they laugh in their shock at the brave little girl
Who would dare to resist her sad fate in the world
Who would stand up to men who were greater than she
And worth more to God than she'd ever be.
Then the dark crawls to shadow and dawn suddenly breaks
And the traders and buyers and those holding the stakes
Are revealed in the sunlight and exposed in the light
Like insects, they go scrambling for the cover of night.
And a man in white clothing, reaches his hand to me
Pulls me to my feet and says, Daughter, you're free
And an army of good men, like heroes so tall
Opens cages and knots and gives freedom to all.
And my sisters and I, we rejoice and we yell
As they round up the men who had made us this hell
Who had kidnapped and caught us and bought us for slaves
Who would wish that they hadn't as they lay in their graves.
We are yellow and black, we are white and we're tan
We are equal in God's sight and equal to man
We are precious and worthy and worth more than gold
But are torn as we leave there with such holes in our souls.
In the trucks going home through the forests so dark
We embrace, giving thanks with our little girl hearts
And we wonder aloud about the good man in white
Who had reached out and freed us and faded from sight.
And we pray for the children and the victims like we
All over the world who just want to be free
From the tyranny of evil and the lust of it's eyes
For we know now there's someone who does hear our cries.
You're so brave! they all tell me, You stood up to the beasts!
But I smile, saying nothing till their praises have ceased
For my bones had near melted as I'd stood and defied
And in the arms of my sisters, I fell and I cried.
©By Voo
July 19, 2017
2:42 a.m.
I don't know where this came from.....
.the story just fell into my fingers tonight and I had to
write it down..
Liza, originally by Bill Withers....
https://www.rutherford.org/publications_resources/john_whiteheads_commentary/the_essence_of_evil_sex_with_children_has_become_big_business_in_america
Those poor Girls!! If I knew where they all were I’d find a way to help them escape, and after that, help them escape from the trauma......my chivalrous and gallant nature always seems to gravitate to the rescuing of women in distress........
ReplyDeleteI can’t believe that there aren’t any more people commenting on your blogs!! It makes me wonder if I’m commenting too much and they don’t have much to say on account of that!........ should I back off? You write some great things;