The Chant

Mama Can you hear it? Deep in hallows Waiting to be joined Maybe they can hear us Ancestors pleading like under five's Wake up call to futuristic and reality Mama The voice is heard so loud Deep in the abyss, profound My heart echoes the agony We are in deep slumber Until when shall we wake up? Ancestors hear our cry Like birds we should soar high Shackled are our feet Prisoned are our hearts Teary but dry eyes Tattered are the lips Voices of hope? No way! Buried are our identities Ancestors hear our cries! Like meerkats, our heads must rise @Poetry Minds