Free
By: Derek Flynn


Chains and shackles have left their mark,
Stumbling we grope through the dark,
Masters of our own fate we press on,
On through the night to a brighter dawn,
Our labors for our captors have ended,
Whip scars and blisters will soon be mended,
Days of rest and of peace we hold dear,
Our songs of joy to any, who will hear,
Just a glimpse of how life will be,
A thing incredible the right to be free.

Breathing the free air tears will be shed,
For those lost and the honored dead,
Perhaps they found their way amid the fires of war,
The evils of men gone forever more,
Ripped from our arms the demons devoured,
Collecting their possessions with sinister glowers,
Heartless and cold the work will be done,
As their pockets grow and their souls numb,
The heat stifles, dripping sweat while the insects feast,
Shaded the overseers drink and eat not a care in the least,
From out the painful fields can softly be heard,
Songs of endurance with freedom the hopeful word.

Years from now while we abscond into the night,
Our children will remember us and continue the fight,
Never forgetting, always keeping close the thought,
That men born as slaves aspired to dream and settled for naught,
And when they tuck their children warm in their beds,
Our story will inspire and resound in their heads,
That their fathers from long ago, stolen across the sea,
Enslaved, and tortured, rose above in the quest to be free.