Do you believe the ghosts of your slaves have forgiven you?
Though you had unshackled chains after much blood had been shed, still there is a mountain to climb

It is written that the sting of the whip and the rod were inflicted only by petty tyrants trying to ape the majesty of ancient empires, sitting idly while your slaves sweated and bled, until the land itself was cursed and left infertile, and that the true heart of your people believed in Freedom, and they shed their own blood to insure this, that tyranny had no place here, and all were truly equal. So we were taught.

Do you believe the spectres of the ancient peoples, come here long before, and slaughtered without thought, have accepted your contrition?

It is written that only a few, the bloodthirsty and the treacherous who have no sense of human decency and dignity, who made coventants in bad faith, who slew without great cause. But it was said that the core of your people believed in the sanctity of the sovereignty of other nations, the hearts of your populace do not make idle promises, their words are honorable, and they would rather die than break troth. So we were taught.

Do you believe the phantoms of your adopted children, lured by promises of a better life, of freedom, of justice, have accepted your apologies? Though it seemed that you would at last give that promised freedom to their children, or at least their children’s children.

It is written that only the greedy, avaricious without bounds, who would sell their own children for profit, who would slay for one extra gold coin, who had tricked them into coming, leaving home, kith, and kin, to work in the vast darkness of the mines, come out spitting coal, to stoop their back in the withering heat to grow and harvest until all movement is pain, to give not only blood and sweat, but sometimes life and limb, so that twin steel rails might crisscross this great land. So we were taught.