Fighting to Be Free (a story/ish)

Fighting to Be Free

There was a group of men who went off to war, to fight for freedom. They fought side by side with the young and the poor. Thinking they were fighting for the same reasons. Only to realize they had an extra layer to those who needed to learn to obey or learn a trade, those who needed clothes on their back and food cuzz their family didn’t have any.

  • One man had to prove his loyalty to a newish land. Or be put in prison as one of the enemy.
  • One had to be allowed to live among his own, even though his family had been here longer than any.
  • One had to fight to be free from the plantation. To never go back there again.
  • And one had to free himself over and over from the shackles he’d come to the battleground in each and every day.

They fought like they were free though, when they should have been. Wondering if they would be alive, like the others did, when the end of the war came. And wondering if those in charge would keep their word.

Along side their troop, they saw ghosts in shackles. Scrambling over the battle ground, waiting to see if they’d be alive at the end of the day. Singing old songs of war, from the world’s beginning. Hearing tales of heroism, from among the frontline that never saw a ribbon or medal, because they had no choice in coming to this fight. Slaves collected just for this fight.

Each of the ghosts fell and rose again to battle against the enemy. Each fall only taking a link from their chains. Till finally the chain broke, and their spirit rose free, finally.

And our four modern servants cried at the sight of the spirits rising, wondering if it was to rest and freedom they finally went. Projecting their own insecurity onto the spirits’ fates.

  • Were they finally seen as a friend in their new nation?
  • Were they with their family again at long last?
  • Had they seen the last of the master of the plantation?
  • And were they now unshackled from the cells of poverty and society’s disdain?

Was there a chance for them at the end of this battle’s day?

They sang the songs of the heroes of old days in hope it would bring them their victory. The promise of redemption in this land that asked more from them than many. Vigilant now of those who served with them on this battlefield on a modern day. And holding each other’s prayer in their own hearts as well as their own today.

For freedom, for family
For the winds of change
May society someday understand
What their blood already gave.

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