Isle Of The Damned
Poem By Llew N. Rmail
When will it end, the
When will it stop, this nightmare
Make it stop, I cry, but I can’t wake
because I am not sleeping.
I can’t call for my mom, my friends,
My home. The men laugh as I cry,
I threaten their demon-like, damned souls.
It’s a floating island, one
that sails and sweeps through the huge buildings of water.
Where are they taking us?
The treat us like hunted animals,
keeping us in small cages and feeding us
raw meat through the bars, whipping us
when we “display disrespect.”
Or when they want some fun.
But we don’t care. We just want them to know
we’re still people.
But they don’t understand.
This poem is the fist of 2 discovered poems where Llew writes from the point of view of a slave.
These poems together are titled:
“A Slave’s Writings”