The night reeks of charred human flesh

quivering in the gust of ancient hate.

Knowing fear of God

blistered and bleeding feet run amid cotton fields

lit pale by no star but by one sunken moon.

Welcome in silence

the starved stripped shamed shaven

before his wife children and fellowmen

Dazed more ghostly than dark alleyways

butchered with cold hands-

Strike one, strike two.

Impair the thoughts with gore, control-

Ravage him dumb and drunken,

bury all that's left to spit on them

with vast sardonic glee-

Strike three.

A bright colored mind arises,

immaculate in the wild,

unapologetic;

his soul fired with weapons of words to awaken a slumbering crowd,

though small, is not insignificant

though hesitant, is hopeful for hope

panting, crying, screaming, beating, pleading, raging, howling

enough is enough!

I am your slave no more.