A Plighted Love (Martyr's Ode)

What story lies behind those eyes,

So burdened, so strained with pain?

Once unyielding, now tempered, 

they bear the gilded glare of dark despair.

What tales linger in the shadows

Of the African, Caribbean streams?

Of rigger sails and stolen shores,

A people bound by wholesome evil’s schemes.Yet, through the night of sorrow’s hymn,

We rise and chant, “The Black Jacobin.”

My Lady Love, how sweet thou art,

Bright star of an ebon hue.

From Heaven’s heights, you graced the day, lending light to we, the dark-like blue. Oh, how I long to take your hand,

And tread beyond the Age of Man.

Your face, my freedom, my decree,

And at your side, my soul set free.

So when the saints go marching in,

The dead shall wake, their lives begin.

All Heaven and Earth will bend the knee, as the Sufferah sings in jubilee.

Evil will flee, its power undone,

As all proclaim the Kingdom come.

For in you, in me, the King resides,

Eternal, unbroken, through space and time.