We washed upon the shores
And traveled in rivulets through the veins of a nation.
We filled her cracks and hollows
And saturated what was parched and wanting.

We bled in fields of cotton,
Giving life to nourish death
Hoping the plant would grow
And its leaves would outstretch and retake the lands.

We too will overcome and reclaim.
We will wash the dirt from our knees and stand once more on our feet.

We will rise.

We are a sea of dark faces and darker pasts,
Swelling with indomitable passion and power,
Surging towards a new shore.

In uniform motion we rage against the chains of the captor
And we free ourselves from the binding current that once swept us away.

The tempest intensifies in a roar of thundering waves and howling winds,
Singing songs of mutiny.

The tides are changing.
The sea will once more be without a master.