SHACKLES

SHACKLES

Born servitude

the black race.

White demons with all the ace.

Burdens of magnitude

weigh on the descendants of Cush.

Flesh in pains,

minds in chains,

Jah bless the Kush.

Thirsty in the Atlantic,

 shivering in the Sahara,

like warmth in Alaska.

Suffering a midst gigantic

affluence. Eyes wide shut

to the truth,

buried to the root,

whoever speaks is shot.

Roll up the blinds,

liberate thoughts from manacles 

cast off those psychological shackles.

Emancipate opaque minds

with the swinging Axe of freedom.

Servitude stings,

we are kings,

and Africa is our kingdom.