Is Not The Wages Of Sin Death

To the fourscore winds that wreaks havoc on earth    
Manmade blessed oil casted over our inner soul drops of forgiveness in the renewal of rebirth      
Is not the wages of sin death      
Who without wraith within thy heart, can he or she not cast stones when reaching the thrones of divinity's wealth        
       
I have seen the teary faces when hopes, dreams, no more chances, all seems lost        
So many young lives I have been a Nightingale too from wicked choices, changed in the matter of moments with treating their elements because they had the sauce      
Regrets confessed from their mouths, praying, hoping, needing to be assured they will get better at any cost      
When did our Creator bless me to see life and the ghost appearance of failing breaths      
Psalms verse twenty-three read in the declining hours to give a weary soul external rest      
The same messages upon the dowry of our heads, yet a different sanctuary of time      
Plagues, famine, debauchery rules churches' mind      
       
There is no peace no matter where you go      
As sure as the tornado destroys, and the water floods no matter where the rapid streams may flow      
This is God's land, no matter the technology found by the inventive hands of man      
One breeze, torrential rains      
At that interval, you bear witness our lives are all the same      
We all have emotions to feel and compassion to lend when we feel pain      
Then why is color blindness the name of life’s game      
       
As a healer, I hear those calls when hearts are lying in wait, terminally ill      
Worshipping society's sacred temples, speaking your language, your religion is my religion, your beliefs are my reliance to fit the cause of the bill, but still      
Does the mind of others ever get fatigue in doing right      
Holding on to the last of faith when devoid of human nature to give into the heathens that romances the night              
I bow in humbleness unto you, as I am, and through me I will always feel the perpetual devotion of Him        
Given unto power to lasso the magnifications of creature comforts which will never win            
To mankind without, seems it’s his downfall without an end            
Falsehood love in beauty, money, spiritual love tossed in the wind              
Vanity lovers of self, money, consorting in the dark on altar with Jinns            
I have hurtled them all, through the beginning of time, to council the            
mentally to make the loins of men lust and the sacred divinity of women            
adhere to enticement to the temptation of its sin            
The first, the last and the fallen ones on earth, the population follows the hidden horns to deceive            
My Ankh I shield to the powers to be            
            
The truth it seeps to give credence between you and me            
What we stand for, when we ask for more it makes us, or it breaks us            
When the blood of our veins in sickness only pours      
We cry out in the last hour to be spiritually forgiven      
In the perfection of health, debauchery, arrogance is the catalyst when we are immorally driven            
No one is better than each other            
When we look in the mirror our reflective image is the only one who hovers            
No other face from another mother        
Vanity is the tool of the Devil's invention, making us self-lovers          
            
I remain docile in my own melanin skin            
This old world seems at times no hope, no glory, truth of the matter to self is where we all begin      
The good book of fables from the Book of Genesis to the Book of Revelations            
Once out the cocoon of the womb it’s the end we are wandering sheep in guidance from the constellations            
My own voice, my own choice        
In this day and age, no trails to follow, but my own footsteps            
It eliminates the time when trying to measure up when no one is ever            
considered in life to the best by the trails of life’s tests            
We are all one whisper from being a labored breath      
       
Tears in remembrance of our presence thy hollow be thy name is all that's left            
Pine boxes, cremations, our Judgment Day comes next      
Never be scared of the unknown       
Live your life as a melody of your own beautiful song      
Energy never dies, our spiritual vessel ascends to be atoned      
Déjà vu will welcome you to advise you your spirit once roamed free      
Those three phrases of life that is ordained for you and for me            
            
The soul-sister, healer, spiritual fighter, blessed lineage of French Moorish Queens            
Let awoken minds speak of what blinded eyes have not seen            
In the realm of spiritual evolution and the parables of the afterlife we walk in            
Every night in the subconscious of our dreams            
Awaken to the coldness of opened eyes never to reclaim what the            
intellect has seen        
Is it atheist or blaspheme once off the nourishing and enlightening nipple we are weaned            
            
The afterbirth, the last sacramental rites of passage before our Creator separates his presence from thy will shall be done            
The first cry of life to a hellish Kingdom come            
Everyone is wrong, life is measured by the greater good, better choices, yet, overruled by wicked deed and evil voices            
We are down here in in the belly of the beast            
Whereas Angels fly beyond the stars with skybox seats            
            
I shall kneel in tarry in remembrance of earthly immoralities            
To kiss thy blessings at thy tiller of consecrated feet            
Close my eyes to the thunder of earthy chaos arousing me to the last feast            
of spiritual virginal sheets            
Who ever said a sin cannot be conformed when a dark heart and an enlightenment mind greets      
Teach the mind and the heart will surely follow      
In that single moment of reaching the soul, pride is forever swallowed