On the coast of Ghana one finds an original slave Castle, preserved and in
all its insanity kept for all to visit.  Going there is eerie, as you walk
down the tunnels into the slave pit where the only light comes from small
4x4 inch slots 30 feet up in the ceiling.  Here the slaves (separated by
sex) would wait, crowded in this dark, damp place for the slaver to arrive.
When it did, they would be herded through the narrow passage ways where the
final gate one reads the following script -Road of No Return.  This poem was
written after that journey, and is the third of the Ghana series.


Road of No Return
Rodney//99


Slow - beat the drums
from long ago and a
distant shore - lost in the
memory of misery.

Silent -flows the tears of
mothers, fathers,
sons, daughters - stolen
in the middle of their morning.

Dark is the tunnel, down
that passage, through the
portal to this continuous night of despair.

Angry - shouts the walls
floors stained with blood dried
centuries ago by those whose
silent screams yet fills the void.

Thick - listen to the air crying out
their names, smell their souls
poured out into the mist as
a million souls blended with a million
dreams, blends with a million lost on
the road of no return.



--
umoja -- rodneyc..

for more of my poetry please check;


http://www.ulbobo.com/umoja

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