Tell Me Moor (Wakanda Forever)

Tell me Moorish man
Where is the alluring scent of your Queen
Did you think you can stand
In the universal, allocated weary hearts, and a locked mind
And still be counted in the roar of your masculine stance, absence of the nature of your dreams
The hue of Moroccan lineage of sacred Hebrews
Has the world forgotten your contributions
And denuded your birthright, no reparations, no earthly rewards, denial of universal dews
Twisted tongues of faith, with a hidden purpose, a B.C. fraudulent wish
Kneeling in repudiated for a lost identity
Praying in the sanctuary of history, advises us in division, the chosen flock will drift
      
The Illuminati’s Eye Of Providence triangle is not about the powers to be
It deprecates the definition of ‘we the people’ and that is considered me
From Europe, Africa, and as being constituted as American goods were traded
My lands invaded, my soul mentally berated
      
Plantation homes to give others wealth was not written in the Torah, the Bible or the Holy Quran’s destructive plan
A vicious symbol in that triangle upheld by bridged fingers to denote life, liberty, and hard labor for the Moorish clan
A new world order marred and scarred on bare backs in its acceptance, and blessed upon closed eyes to ancient civilizations’ history
The ties that binds is always in the obscured mysteries
      
Is the humility of my skin worth more than, guns, textiles, gunpowder iron bars
For ships to have traveled so far
Copper, pewter, brass, brandy, the commodities to barter sold me into chains, chastised my silence by whips
Shackled with my brethren, my sista, we walked our doom hip to hip
      
Tearful eyes looked up to the skies
Incantations whispered to the North Star that heard my cries
Asking me to follow the casted illumination in the cloak of night
Revolt in the face of death as freedom, souls sought
As tarred and feathered, spirits unto that beautiful ascending glorious light
      
Empresses of old multiplied the seeds of Emperor's loins way back when
Before the originality of Jezebel's sin
The world from your Moorish creation walked in the image of the Creator
To see you through,  we as Queens became the throne’s ordained protector
In the talk of war, tender lips became the peaceful arbitrator
Soft hands drew naked nobility from the depth of the Nile
To quench the thirst of knowledge, in the purity of our hearts, we gave you wisdom
While the serpent slithered to seduce and beguile
      
We are the Psalms of our kingdom thy shall come
Nursing the battle wounds once a war cry has been declared
Trumpets heard in combat, our sovereignty in the jungle has been won
In the faith of time, we made you whole, physically, mentally, emotionally while roaming as God’s chosen man
Where are your whispers Moorish Man, have they got lost in the shifting of the wind
The divine of femininity wandering in the wilderness, the compassion upon our bosom we will always lend
The relics of time written upon walls, closed minds still never acknowledges your truth, and refused to comprehend
     
Black Panther you are, Wakanda Forever