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The Abolitionist

The Abolitionist

You came, not huffing or puffing,

or fearing darkness but you came confident in service.

Finally freedom walked into my slave state.

“Be a slave no more,” he said.

Slavery free-er, on the cross redeemer, coming

like a thief in the night, you heard the clank of my bondage chains,

as I, accustomed to my condition and too tired to even try.

You smelled the blood drip from orange rusted second skin shackles cutting into my soul.

You came, with the key to my lock and said, “Follow me.”

“Be a slave no more,” he said.

Abolished despair. May my freedom ring!

Emancipated my emaciated soul with breath of life.

My whole existence was southerly rooted but then you came with light,

unexpectedly waking me saying,

“Be a slave no more.”

You came regardless.



Passed my innate unbelief, you tracked down my ailing aorta that cried freedom.

The master came closer whenever I neared you.

Vile devil, abused me solely for his labors, for his cause,

for his agenda, beating me mentally, coloring my back with a razor leather rope.

Master strung me higher, cracking it harder for others to see.

But then, before I shook on the Faustian deal again, you came.

In media res, during the devilish deliverance of depression,

you entered knowing your purpose like a thief in the night.

Jimmied my lock.

You held and soothed my hands.

Gave me water.

Set me free.

Held me close.

Forever north, crying freedom, I run unshackled.

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