LAZARUS! In silence you lie
Beneath the dust of ancient scrolls,
Whilst your art ; The mother of exiles
Dines in the womb of time demarcated.
Soon the Island of liberty will consume itself,
And darkness shall mate with time
To blot out the light of the lamp
Meant to lead us through the golden door.

I, the son of a slave, who tasted liberty
From the bone of your poem,
I have escaped the sweat at home
To kiss the feet of the mighty woman with the torch,
I have wandered the sprawled body of the Sahara,
Crossed sand dunes of the lynched,
Saw the Mediterranean throw up waxed bones of my forebears,
Till I came to Babylon navigating
Through the ocean of my sweat, yet here I am
Standing on the heels of broken dreams
With just a wall in-between your Colossus and I.