For the faith, they borrowed, a fear, they bought
Dare you doubt, pious pity, of the proud, black race
Who couldn’t, last without, their ethnic sellout
Find their present, too entrapped, in their, past’s disgrace!
In broken slippers, still walks, a million miles
The ethos, on aid, of a land, betrayed
Who made, you slaves, forgive their guiles
Never pardon brethren, who sold, your head!
It was only your fear and fancy of white skin
That you gave in, to the slavery, of your, own making
Freedom founded, no utopia, but a dystopia, akin
To a, political nightmare, worth forsaking!
Your failings, sold you, once again
This time, at, Chinese colonial cost
Whose worth, is pity, who cares, for their pain –
Black Enigma, Of A, Continent Lost!
© 2020 Vikas Chandra