Home of Bondage

Behind docks for yonks, am a born refugee of the home of bondage. Within the rite's prisons am entangled in this inherited conviction; deep in our conscience. Centuries founded walls stand stiffly as board inscribed by ***** letters letters that sum up to words of crime. In 'their' presence we make a jazz our evil instrictive desires in a sweet jargon. We don't mean, 'cut down the mango tree' we mean, 'chop off their heads' on exuberance of revenge; vengeance to our ancestors, we gang against our brothers whom we differ by the language of the tongues, by the colours of the skin. These selfish futile battles, when shall they end? The rites of vengeance when shall we refrain from their adoration? My kids won't be such slaves for this is my treason my exodus from the home of bondage.