Soul of the Baobab

They came as gods, with chains to lace our mind, Evangelizing of saviors while they plundered the land. Their cross was sharp; it fractured, left us blind, A weapon camouflaged in faith’s deceptive hand. With Christ, they annihilated the spirits we held true, Called wisdom pagan, marooned our gods. Yet freedom never dies—though for sure, it grew, And in the Baobab’s shade, we still abide. What is belief, but vigor to enslave? What truth but what the strong assert as right? Their heavenly words were nothing but a grave Where dreams of sovereignty lost their fight. But now we rise, with wrath in our breath, We’ll break their gods and write our nemesis in death.