Working hard in a town of one
Slave masters forcing work to be done
The sun beams down on my skin causing it to be cooked
The whips upon whips feeling more like a pirate hook
Blood running over my scars that never heal
This is my experience feeling for real
Plantation owners laugh like it is no big deal
Yet the wounds of hurt is how I feel
My soul cries in the Lord’s name
It’s the Devil’s wrath being the blame
My eyes often question why am I a Slave?
Why am I being forced to behave?
My skin color being what the Lord created
Yet the superior thought with eyes of hatred
The night moon being the lantern among the many prayers guiding from Heaven
My prayers sustaining into battle cries
Yet the hope that continues for me to be wise
The biblical songs of one’s hope
The musical words in what helps me cope
I am a person with a right to be free
God is the answer and leader who holds the key
This is our spirit as slaves between the marvelous thee
The sunrise I cannot see, but there is a horizon that shall be
There will come a time, we as slaves won’t be beat anymore
I see the vision like a seashore, and its prayers definitely for sure
One day the slave master will be the one to be beat
God is our shield that will conquer defeat
A town being a silent one
But our continued prayers that will never be out done
Being a slave for years, but it is true wisdom that will help preserver.