On the wings of time, we’ve soared
From the canyons of history to the horizon
That has become ourstory’s beginnings:-
From the clefs of struggle, was heard
A creak in the door of time; was seen,
A spiraling light splitting the darkness;
A liberty coming since the foundation of the world—
Nothing can stop the coming of a new dawn;
Nor hold the night in suspended animation:-
Here at the crossroads of change, we stand;
Evolutionary evidence of strong steadfastness:
No longer chained, but survivors of life’s vicissitudes.
Long and arduous has been the treacherous journey;
Blood debts remain and new generations must rise
To discover the waistline beginning of their rising—
Least they fail to realize who and whose they are:-
Were not our kingdoms beyond all human measures?
Were we not in the beginning as was the Garden Of Eden?
Do not keloid memories speak volumes of our Ancestors' feats?
No longer should we fear who and whose we are:
From Creation’s womb—body and soul—we have spewed;
Marvelously made, riding on the frothing waves of change;
Our liberating journey coming to destiny’s culminating end:-
In this land of promise, we will be the legacy of our Ancestors;
Seeds sown and watered with their blood; giving birth to new roots:-
So let the blood flow of our remembrance cover the historical stage—
Ourstory’s real-life scenes having no Shakespearian Othello-like tragedy;
Its horizon, saturated with echoing applauses of how far we have overcome:-