First thought, who lived here… second, where is the treasure? I often imagined going there to find the “vault.” Along with my recreations of grandeur came that of terror, were there slaves that once roamed uneasily here? Based on the remnants of dungeon-like pits, my imagination is not at fault.
My imagination also told me to be brave on my many visits; the possible discontent of their spirits weighed heavily on my mind, more so my sanity. I had visions of sufferation, their damaged and hardened exterior frightened me, nobody should have to live like this.
Back to reality!
Black people have come a far way, my presence in this moment is testament to that. As for this magnificent structure, the fact that it now lies in ruins holds true to the fact that nothing lasts forever.