When we squint back into the days of our forefathers there is a story that has been told and told again.
There is a story about Jack and Azania.
Jack was a man and Azania was his slave.
Jack had many servants and many more slaves.
He came
She followed
He saw
She saw too
He came once more
She followed his trail
He took Azania on a voyage across the Atlantic sea
She built a sea of ships with her bare hands
He showed Azania how super powerful he was
She discovered that she made Jack super powerful
He gave Azania many names and put her into many more boxes
She took her many names and stood proud as an
animal ready to pounce on whomever beckoned a tongue
to call her by it
He stripped Azania from her roots and taught her to sing like birds and not beasts
She whistled whispers to the trees and howled to the
moon by night
He whipped Azania sometimes
She is reminded of what Jack did by the scars that line
her back
He punished her for breathing too much or too little when she bent her back to serve him and his guests
She breathes for no man but herself but she still breaks her
back serving him, his guests and her own
He let them come after he came too
She is raped by him and them and her brothers
He covered her in tar
She covers herself in tar for his pleasure and his pennies
He hung her from his trees to display her strength as a beast and a beauty
She hangs herself because she sees no beauty in the beast
of life
He burnt her alive
She burns him in her dreams and nightmares
He crucified her over and over in the name of his power
She prays to his saviour every day
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