The Bleeding Chains of the Black Slaves

Sele Media Africa I am the echo of silent screams, Bound by the weight of forgotten dreams. In the shackles of steel, my spirit bleeds, A life erased, a history that pleads. My wrists are raw, my body bent, But my soul rises with the pain I’ve spent. The cotton fields whisper my name, As my blood stains the earth, calling for change. Through the cracks of my eyes, I see the sun, But it's not the warmth of freedom, just another run. Run from the lashes, run from the night, Run from the chains that steal my sight. I am the wind that howls in the dark, The beating drum, the freedom's spark. But these chains—they hold me down,