Song of the split heart

Born of years
Of dark mistrust
I look back on
Those chains, which
Rust and moan around
The necks of my
Born of ancient
Shores I came
From skin not
Kissed by sun
Of lives well
Trenched into
The dirt
I come from
Slavery, I come from
Shores of green
From dark lands 
That sparkle and
Beat a rythmn
On skin drums
I am not one
I am not the other
Who I am I but
What history has
Wrought before?

I am entirely new. 

The End

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