Diary of a runaway slave

Stale heat overpowering me

Breath slowly escaping free

Legs moving thickly through the brush

Hands flailing quickly with an inexperienced touch

The devils on my heels, with redrum on his breath

The stench getting stronger, smelling like death

Shackled by terror, finally gained some courage

To free myself, though the others discouraged

I refuse to imprison my future

Without giving unborn life a chance

Adrenaline pushing my stride

Struggling to advance

I can hear the triggers rattling

And hooves crashing on my grave

I hear voices of the lost souls of these woods

Whisper name, my soul they will help save

My bodies growing weary, their presence getting stronger

Barefoot scraping, razor sharp bark

My chances increase with the setting of dark

I hear the hounds barking

Exposing my location

A dim light up ahead, my final destination

They let them loose to bring back the prey

My fate I can’t accept, my future I cannot say

The bottoms of my feet are now raw

The skin burning in flame

The spirits mapping out my mark

Singing out my name

My father killed for fighting back

My mother beat and sold

My sister and brother were born twins

And bought at 5 years old

Older sister killed herself

She couldn’t stand no more

I alone in this world with nothing but hope to live for

My vision is poor, I can barely see

But visions of freedom are clear to me

If I don’t act quickly deaths hand I will hold

I know I’m close to that railroad

Through the swamp muddy water

Legs moving slower, body pushing harder

I don’t hear the hounds

The hooves are deathly quiet

The voices of the spirits are painstakingly silent

I’ve reached the crossroads, Lord I’m finally there

Through divine guidance, my life has been spared

I look to the stars and think of the others

Who’s lives are mere shadows of fear

A silohuette in darkness, a soul entrapped

Unheard pain

Unseen tears

My people are worth more than they understand

I risked my life

To be a stepping stone

A slave a free woman

A helping hand

For the next enslaved man