The Enslaved mind,
Will escape some day.
It’ll find a hole in the wall,
A crack in the window,
A flaw in the gate.
The enslaved mind does not know it is captured,
It doesn’t feel the invisible chains, the ropes or the shackles.
The bricks that are used as weights to keep it from ascending
Paralyzed, pinned, like a footprint trapped in concrete, cemented.
The enslaved mind, doesn’t see anything wrong.
Everything is right.
The Sunday worship, tithes to the Pastor,
Prayers to its God,
Morning, noon, and night.
Who are you worshipping?
The question asked of curiosity,
Is it the one who cannot, or ‘unwilling’ to prevent atrocities?
But the enslaved mind is incapable of explaining its faith,
Ask it to describe its God, and the response is,
All seeing, All knowing, the one who creates.
The one who blesses me, and wakes me in the morning.
Is it the same one who kills 9 million children each year? (Isaiah 45:7)
Some with cancers, and some with no warning?
Or is it the one you still have not seen?
Not in your home, your car, your church, not even in your dreams.
The enslaved mind will create illusions. It doesn’t realize the real lies, it was programmed to do this. -Andrea L’Artiste copyright