Imagine...
Imagine
If the Ocean could cry
If Walls did cry
If the Sands could speak
If the Cells here in Cape Coast would try
To tell the tale of blood lost, of tears shed
Of souls dead
Imagine...
Imagine
If I stood where my fathers cried,
Where my people died
Where slavery tried to steal their souls
And Mother pride
Imagine what I'd feel inside
Imagine...
Imagine
The huddled masses
Sardined and wearied soul
Sweat, blood and urine flow
Like rivers of tears swollen
And the children of Africa knowin'
That the ship's a comin'
That that old ship's a comin'
And the children of Africa know
It soon will be time to go
Imagine ...
Disease infested, hatred ingested--
Salt-air from the sea sifting
through slits for vents
where sunlight barely shows
Like dim-lit rainbows,
though in these holes,
the reflections in the dark
show no reflections of the dark ones here
who huddle in fear
as the end draws near.
Imagine...
Imagine the terror
The shameful error
of those who
knowingly sold their brothers and sisters
into a slavery so cruel
So brutal
So lewd
So without human rules
Imagine...
Imagine the door
The Point of No Return
The wail from hell
Where the Children of Africa fell
Oh, the hell!
I can smell the hell
Sense the hell
Feel the hell:
Seagulls crying
Buzzards flying
Sharks lying await
White men filled up with hate
Black folks beat down by hate
Black folks in shackles of hate
That old slave ship sealed up with hate
That old slave ship setting sail in winds of hate
And this old slave castle the birthplace of my fate.
Imagine...
Imagine
If I stood where my fathers cried
Where my people died
Where slavery tried to steal our souls
And Mother pride
Imagine what I'd feel inside.
Imagine.
(I visited Cape Coast Castle today where our tour guide said an average of 10,000 Africans a year were transported by slave ships in the transatlantic slave trade from this depot. Ghana's Cape Coast Castle was run by the British, and many slaves perished at this location where they were bound in shackles and dwelled in horrible conditions.)
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