A Slave, No Less, No More
Having conquered the wretched fool,
Having pained like an arrogant tool,
Having smiled before his master’s whims,
A slave, no more, but less to him.
Nigh beseech thee, far and wide,
The man with the demons in his eye, see,
Glimpse him now, while the time is right,
Glimpse him in his airy strife.
Do you not see, the darkness there?
Do you forego his dreary stare?
Look now slave, hear my contempt,
Feel that anger when you look at him!
Freedom cooks behind your brow,
I feel as you feel it now.
Take that passion, reap its sow,
Raise up you hand, bring up your bow!
Fight the shadows all must loath,
And take your freedom from him.
Fade not, young master, in your pursuit,
Fade not dear child, yes, horde your loot,
Horde your loot that he might not take it,
Take now your self, don’t let him break it.
Run dark child, flee up to them,
Fear not his hand, fear not his men.
They cannot harm you in the land to the north,
Nor take your hand, or your gun, or your sword.
For there the men are kind and good,
They’ll treat you as the white men should,
As an orphaned child in need of a home,
As a long lost brother, with rights to own.
You shall have your weapons, always near,
You must keep weary, but never fear,
No, never while, the good men grow,
Never will there pains, you hold.
Now you’ve heard, my words to thee,
Give your response, boy, tell me, please,
Will you go to white lands far?
Will you trust them still,
While here you’re scarred?
Yes! You’ll come with me afar?
You’ll travel there, you’ll take my par?
Child I’m so glad for thee!
To think my words have set thee free!
Free alas, from your worldly pains!
Free alas from the white man’s chains!
Free to be, your own, your self!
Free to be, no more a whelp!
Here, take now, this hat, wear this cloak,
Take here from my hand, my staff, it is oak,
Fine oak you see, will set you free,
No slave would have it, they’ll let you be, see,
Already you look, as one of us,
Just leave at dusk, to cover that musk,
In darkness, you might, cleanly hide,
Until the north hath reached your side.
I bless thee now, dear child once more,
Your journey, I pray, for you and mourn,
Oh, how I mourn to think the fate,
Of one caught out, long after the late.
And in this state, the child left,
My words of encouragement, clouding his head.
He did not look up when the white man neared,
He did not notice, death’s scruffy beard, yes,
In the shape, of an ugly man,
His master come, to take back the boy’s hand.
Now on the ground, the child wailed,
As master pelted him with hails,
Hails, yes hails, of evil blows,
With wretched whips, he slapped the boy’s toes.
And on that night, when the poor boy died,
I wept my eyes out, woe, that foolish pride!
To think myself, an able nose,
A capable mind, to smell out the foes.
Oh the foes, of that dead boy so cold!
How could I have left, behind him.
Now I’m committed,
My life is omitted,
To ridding the world of this woe.
Never forgotten,
The child now rotten,
Always I’ll carry him so…
- CAMERON MCCAUSEY
Cameron lives with his parents and four siblings in Michigan. He is a home schooled freshman and loves to write and read. Cameron is an accomplished guitarist and loves to play and write music.
On This Day
“This is the year of the favor of the Lord. This is the day of the vengeance of our God .”
I was about 7 or 8 years old when I first heard this song based on Isaiah 61. I was far too young to understand these two lines, but I think I have a little bit better understanding now.
This day everything changed for our country; January 20, 2009 when President Obama’s inauguration.
A leader should not be chosen for how he looks or whether he says the right words. He should be chosen for his morals and intention to do the right thing in his position. The new president was elected because of his popularity. The people and the media have gone crazy over him and the attention can be equated to idol worship. Only One deserves worship and He is not a mere man.
He proclaims “change” and “hope” but only time will tell if he can deliver. Perhaps it’s my pessimistic nature, but I highly doubt he will fulfill all his promises. He is going to allow girls of any age to murder their unborn, unwanted child without consent and at any stage of pregnancy. He will give a man the choice to marry a woman or another man. He claims he will lower taxes and fix the economy.
But now I refer back to the two lines at the top. I believe God will use this change in the nation to bring about a change in the Kingdom. I can’t even begin to speculate what He may do, but I will watch and pray.
“The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me, because the LORD has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion–to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of his splendor.” (Isaiah 61:1-3 NIV)
On this day, I will shine my light in the darkness.
ESTHER LOPRESTO
I am first and foremost a Scribe of the King. It is my desire to serve God through the written word. I have been creating stories since age three. I would tell them to entertain my family, but didn’t start writing them down until age eight or nine.
Since then, the need to write has been insatiable. At age nineteen, I had my first book, Where’s My Other Sock?, published by Tate Publishing. Then, I graduated from community college with a degree; not in anything writing related, but in accounting. Currently, I’m hunting for a bookkeeping job and working on several books or story ideas. In my stories, I challenge the reader’s imagination with adventures into the fantasy realm. Some stories lean towards mystery/suspense or general fiction, and I try to write for all ages. I find my inspiration from JRR Tolkien’s works and from the Randomness of everyday life.
SDG. (read more…)
Facebook
Twitter