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46.4
- 152 Views
- 21 Votes
- 13 Favorites
89.9
December 02, 2012
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
--poem by Maya Angelou
- Camera Canon EOS 1100D
- Focal Length 55mm
- Shutter Speed 1/50 sec
- Aperture f/5.6
- ISO/Film 800
- Category Fine Art
- Uploaded 6 months ago
- Taken November 28th 2012
- Copyright ARITRA SEN
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greetings..