Outlast

My captors degrade my beauty and pawn my wealth

Their forked tongues deceive my people with false promises

They have no plan for us!

We are a means to an end

They labor for the enrichment of distant masters

Desiring their patronage

Their legacy will be pits and ashes

But my eyes do not waver, my steps do not falter

I was before them, and I will outlast them