Part 3. Running Away

I saw the sadness in my people’s eyes, I saw them run away.
I saw the anger, heard their cries, I knew they could not stay.
I saw their spirit wilt, I saw their bodies torn.
I saw inside their hearts, for Africa they mourn.

And so they crept into the night so dark they scarce could see.
Hoping that this journey would somehow make them free.
Running barefoot over land, crawling through the mire.
Battered, bruised and bloodied for the freedom they desire.

But all too soon the overseer made us gather round,
And there before our eyes the slave splayed on the ground.
The overseer held tightly his nine tailed lash of pain,
And brought it down upon the slave time and time again.

I saw his back rip open; I saw the blood seep out,
I heard his muffled cries and later heard him shout.
“Mercy please, I will not run, no more, no more I pray”
But the overseer smiles and whips his ravaged skin away.