pass me not

A song of freedom and hope for everyone everywhere in the world
who feels oppressed by the misdeeds of others
 
-i-
pass me not
    like a shadow
   at your feet
      to trample en route
    to your high horses
or lofty mountains.
    acknowledge me
   before the sun burns out,
      before the rocks cry out
    beyond a shadow’s doubt.
i am the souls of black folk,
    essential ebony
   that melts the irony
      of freedom wearing chains.
    of pavements
choked on bloodstains.
    of a godly heritage
   denatured by the gross controversy
      of a retrospect of pain
    for your base pleasure.
 
-ii-
pass me not
    like a widow        
   on the street,                    
      ripped from stem and root            
    to build your farces.            
from weeping fountains
    i challenge thee
   before your gut turns out
      and mercy streams dry out
    under my widow’s shout.
for heavy is the black yoke
    whose lethal cruelty
   lays bare the tyranny
      of freedom bearing chains’
    bereavements.
cloaked in membranes
    of ungodly sabotage
   ennobled by your inadvertency
      i shall glean respect from pain
    by time’s just measure.
 
-iii-
pass me not    
    like much ado
   about fleet
      moments on the flute
    whose vain concourses
and underground dens
    whisper to me.
   so deafening the shout
      of innocence, without
    faint hope to sing about!
oppressive though the black stroke
    of serendipity,
   your own fortuity
      shall glory in no gains;
    achievements,
whose deadly strains
    souls ensnare by camouflage,
   shall melt away when sleep’s complacency
      liberates the serfs to reign
    o’er once-lost treasure.
 
© Copyright 2021 February 10
by Clyve A. Bowen♫