Africa, Ancient History, art, poetry

The Rebellion of the Guard of Yazid

Found within the confines of the desert

The many tribes lifted their sturdy swords

The land of a hundred empires fell

Beneath the feet of unwelcome hordes

There is nothing grand in this new disgrace

No gold or jewels thrown to the filthy mob

Yazid comes to claim his sand bedecked throne

Royal flourishes did not quench his thirst

For sweet power and royal domination

The arms of the Imazighen were bared

To receive the blazing branding iron

Marked forever with the name Yazid

The cruel Amir did love his guard of slaves

And the world embraced a new wretched caste

Of brave people blithely clapped in iron chains

Alas! This was one disgrace to many

And the people cried aloud for freedom

When nothing transpired to answer their pleas

They armed themselves with the tools of justice

Without a second thought they went to war

The People would never be slaves

Such is the way of things in the Maghreb

One day thou art free and the next thou art

Fighting for the right to bear your own name


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