On ancient grounds, you were a ruler.
Your kingdom surpassed anything
Your eyes could see.
It's no wonder you're rebellious
In this new land.
You're standing on sinking sand,
And not the tough terrain
So used to your mighty footsteps.
The masters of this new land
Have beaten and raped your queen.
They've taught her submission
Is a demeaning thing,
That it means being trampled
Under men's feet.
Therefore, she is defiant
And has forgotten her station,
And that you are the head of the household
As God intended.
And so, your union, once unshakeable, is
Weak, fragile, and troubled.
Your prince has been taught
That an honest day's work
Doesn't reap great rewards,
That for all he earns,
He only receives crumbs
Once the master has taken his share.
He's been taught to produce 
As many field hands as he can,
To show his worthiness,
To show his manliness,
But the master doesn't teach
Him to care for, or to provide for his offspring
Master tells him he'll feed his children
And he'll give them a home.
And so, your prince goes,
Spreading his seed
Without waiting for harvest time.
Your princess has learned
That no man can truly be hers,
Yet she still dresses in her finest robes,
Paints her face, adjusts her crown,
And does a seductive dance
To catch a suitor's eye.
She's been taught that it's ok
To spend herself for riches,
For the master would get her
Some of the best dresses
And let her work in the big house
If she's a good girl.
You've tried many times
To regain our stature,
But to no avail. 
Your kingdom has been overthrown
And there is no recovery.
Those who have revolted
Against the current power
Have found cold steel in their chests,
Or shaking legs searching for the earth.
You weep in your distress.
You scream in pain.
You curse the day the crown
Was ripped from your head.
Despite the havoc the master's
Caused on your life,
He walks around with a high head,
Wearing a mask or arrogant splendor,
Hoping you'll forget the day
You were king.