The Griot Who Refused To Sing The Mansa’s Praises
They filed out of the enchanted hut with grim faces.
“Woman! You have grieved our ancestors,” proclaimed the speaker.
Drums rolled as the villagers awaited her sentence.
“You are no longer part of us.
Leave now, and return no more.”
Looking back one last time
At their forlorn faces,
She inhaled deeply,
Then whispered,
“Freedom!”
This piece was inspired by picture #4 of November’s prompt.
Read more of my work at http://mohmanyang.com
