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Purpose

The color of my rainbow is found in my universal healing hands
To catch the over spillage of my woes when my cup runneth over to hear the beautiful echoes of His voice when time is drained by the fallacies man
Many intellects refuse to follow, engage, or to entertain
Encased in the thistles of their own mental pain  
 
How dare you ask for life, yet not embrace the afterlife of death
Ask for joy but refuse to believe in the coming of joy when dark storms have been met    
By the color of segregation in remembrance how long we’ve come where faint voices upon the earth softly roam
Unchained souls rejoice in the rebirth of enlightenment in a new spiritual home  
Society must find ways to atone  
Witnessing the injustice of Moorish ancestry in twisted laws          
I have come, seen, and saw
              
Ransom for bondage, ransom for organs, ransom for lands and religion in the name of deities of old                
Heaven exempted of its password, whereas, imprisoned on earth by the sweetness of the serpent’s offerings, nonetheless, man has the code to annihilate existence                
And finally, the threat of the bomb gets the respect of the world                
Is there an afterlife to believe in          
When the weight of whips, chains, gas chambers is our beautiful universal’s history of sins                      
        
Can the Creator see the oath promised by the arched rainbows                
Yet, humanity cannot feel the faith in their weary hearts as blood flows              
That mustard seed is shriveling so fast                
Its small to the naked eyes, and lessened to the mind to continue to believe
The essence of my femininity is ordained upon Haitian soil
Unto the sacrifice by the Heaven’s already foretold
Wear your lineage proud without degradation  
Bitterness is the mouth that cannot confess the testimonies of his or her own jubilation

 
Written by SweetKittyCat5
Published | Edited 15th Oct 2024
Author's Note
Hold yourself responsible for a higher standard than anybody expects of you. Never excuse yourself.

Henry Ward Beecher
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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