Blind Fold II

We were a beautiful story of nature, happy and rich with life
With beliefs strong as the oak tree, the Golden Stool was our prize
Majestically descending from the clear skies in sunshine and rain, full of life
With a cautious prophecy of the impending test

Then they came, riding the waves, in beautiful floating houses
They came when the shores were empty, to lurk and hide for days
They revealed their pale skins and faces
Hospitably, we took them to our homes; our stubborn mistake

Our new friends taught us how to pray with our eyes closed
Closed so we can communicate with the Spirits
Our eyes Closed so we don’t get distracted
Our eyes Closed so we don’t see what’s happening around us
Our eyes Closed; the blindfold of their prayer

Our new friends taught us how to praise with our hands lifted high
High so we can leave what we held
Our hands high so we lose our guard
Our hands high so we surrender our land
Our hands high ready for the chains

So we learnt; blindly
How to pray with our eyes closed,
closed so they took our lands
How to praise with our hands held high,
raised so they shackled us in chains
and they marched us to their floating houses

We cried in their floating houses
Carried across our own seas
Packed alongside our stolen lands
Treated as the same commodity
Treated! with no humanity.

                                 

                                ~rewritten with Ekow Andoh