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Echoes Across the Abyss

By BennyBT-4-CertaintyPublished 4 months ago 4 min read


A chapter opens in the history books, A story of untold stories and grief.

An oceanic journey, a mysterious waterfall, The Transatlantic Slave Trade, an eerie campaign.

Chains at Dawn

Where the sun meets the earth at the cradle of Africa, Something sinister is born.

The sons and girls of the land were whisked away by a malevolent hand, bound by chains.

From the coast of Senegal to the embrace of the Gold Coast, chattel for sale is a vicious humiliation.

Sold in marketplaces while the sun was down, a continent's suffering, the trade had begun.

The Routes' Desolation

Navigate the oceans and the vast Atlantic, A perilous opportunity, a voyage into the vast unknown.

From Goree Island to the walls of Cape Coast, As the slave ship calls, the trade winds murmur.

Map the routes, observe how the Middle Passage develops, A perilous journey, a tragedy repeated.

Restricted in chains beneath the decks, Lost souls intertwined in a human cargo.

Rumblings Over Black Seas

Shackled spirits sail into the heart of ugliness, and ebony seas bore witness to the atrocity.

The cries of those imprisoned in the ship's dimly illuminated cells reverberate in the depths of the ocean.

Red sunsets, the soft brightness of morning, and the steady creaking of the ship beneath.

An unsettling melody, a horrifying symphony—The Middle Passage—where humanity went horribly wrong.

Soul Shackles

Inside the ship's hold, darkness dances, chains jangle, and despair descend into a thick trance.

Hope withers in this dimly lit room, her face carved with stories of stolen elegance.

On wood floors where agony permeates, The smell of hopelessness in the ship's holds.

A painful dance with intertwined limbs.

Where the light refuses to shine, amid the depths of darkness.

The Shadowy Heart

Screams that cut through the darkness, The situation is attested to by the stars above.

The shine of the moon on the swell of the ocean,

A trip through hell, a wet grave.

The trader's lair, the center of darkness.

A ghoulish experience, a floating prison.

Navigate the oceans while the moon shines softly.

A terrifying journey, a dream for a hostage.

Ocean Ghosts

Sea ghosts float on the waves, whispering to one another.

Enslaved to watery graves, the ship continues to sail.

Longing for their ancestral shores, lost souls.

Their sounds reverberate, resounding like foamy waves.

Deep below, where coral reefs flourish, A funeral rite for people doomed to perish.

A flotilla of ghosts, the Middle Passage, Their tales inscribed in the pulse of the sea.

The Block Alive

Sorrowful caravans arrive at the distant coast; souls are exchanged at auction houses; and more.

With every hand of trade, life auctioned, and grain of sand strewn, silent prayers rise.

Plantations in the New World, where people labor, The dirt is a testimony to the soil on stolen lands.

From the fields of Carolina to the cane of Jamaica, A painful legacy and a bitter harvest.

The Sorrow Tapestry

The mournful tapestry is skilfully crafted, A web of pain in the light of the New World.

From the luscious sugarcane to the tobacco plantations, A vicious pulse, a defeatist heartbeat.

The planter hears ancestral whispers in the embrace of a new land, the tears of the old world.

Picked cotton in the heat of the South, A bitter defeat, a bitter harvest.

The Search for Emancipation

A glimmer of hope endures in the depths of hopelessness: the desire for freedom and the breaking of bonds.

The North Star shines in the darkness, leading those seeking freedom across quiet waters.

The murmurs Harriet made in the Underground, A network of bravery, the sound of a heartbeat.

In quilts made with the intention of freedom, A voyage undertaken in secret, a struggle for survival.

A History Revealed

The echoes of the trade, a closed fist, continue even after centuries have passed.

In the blues' sorrow and jazz rhythm, Old voices, unbroken resilience.

A legacy reclaims its proper position from the coasts of Africa to the embrace of the diaspora.

The spirits swing in life's dance.

A tenacious people, a victorious performance.

The Transatlantic Slave Trade is a menacing guide that exists somewhere in the shadows of history.

However, when a melody reverberates over the chasm, A tenacious tune, appropriate for the downtrodden.

Filthyheartbreakfact or fictionCONTENT WARNINGchildrens poetry

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  • Dharrsheena Raja Segarran4 months ago

    This was so fascinating and informative. Very poetically written!

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