Nary a Word
In the waning darkness of predawn,
they trundle off to work
Hearing the sound of the cock crow,
time stamps another day in the life of a slave
Going off to work in the cotton fields,
or to gather the sugar cane ...
and other fruitful things
On this day, they get relief from the heat
by a cool morning rain
With downcast eyes, and saying nary a word,
the pain in their souls were clearly heard
As the rain comes down harder,
and silent tears rise up to the heavens,
prayers not empty are received
The promise of salvation is delivered swiftly
Thunder speaks with a mighty sound,
lightning answers with a gavel pound
And all the slaves fall on their knees to the ground
as the tremors abound
Then the earth opens up,
and the plantation house falls in
Swallowing up the masters of oppression
Servants of the house were warned to flee
in a frightening dream last night
To flee quickly once the rain descends in the morning
Voices of praise are mingled with the tumultuous,
atmospheric rage ...
For on this day,
freedom comes with the unlocking of the slaver's cage
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