The Sovereign Of My Care (My Royal Insignia-COTS)

Black Obsidian
Silver Candle
Nag Champa Incense
All Mirrors Draped
 
In the hunt for hidden treasures, riches of golden pleasures  
The map compass is sending me on a journey I started early this morning  
Been all over the world, gathering mysteries
Rested my head in third world countries, adopting their histories  
We take so many things for granted we have in our sole possession  
Laborer of hands, cut off for conflict diamonds, mines patrolled and controlled by government given weapons  
Children’s faces of silent tears, village raids hidden from fears  
You ask me why I choose to say, I once nursed unto presence, held hands as I quietly prayed  
The arrival of UNICEF or Red Cross mission, its wondrous assisting salvation  
Rice, beans, cholera murky water, pestilences, daily starvation  
 
In America, we want, comforted by our needs  
Do you ever take the moment to think someone else’s heart bleeds  
It weeps for peace  
Dominated by a strong hold in the Middle East  
It cries out for the land to replenish  
No seeds sown, land cracked and diminished  
Tusks of elephants hunted in jungles as they roam, this heartless concept does hit home  
 
Poachers aiming no more they stand  
Now considered Smuggled Ivory Contraband  
Safari eyes have seen in the motherland  
Those piano keys  
Blood Ivory Tusks that plays such sweet melodies  
Pictures of the people, the villages, a long-distance heartfelt romance  
Midwives, flies, propaganda lies, riddles the lands  
 
How could I close my eyes to memories of missionary relief  
Strange occurrences, crooked political system with no guided spiritual beliefs  
I may write as a sexy dame, however, remembrance of Soweto’s villages of tin  
Beautiful names behind smiles of origin  
Nurse duties advised, not to judge, turn a blind eye in time  
Skin pigmentation, not aged like fine wine  
A forgotten country, citizens living among mud, poor educational system, hunger, and flies  
 
Exploited on television, Haiti allowed me to spread my wings, set me free to be me  
So much work still to do in Africa, not by one’s hands  
Donations among any natural disaster falling short to deliver to woman or man  
Locked out, eyes to heaven as I’ve looked up  
Suburban privileges not sipped from everyone’s cup  
 
Separatism, it tried  
Multicultural, with still privileged prying eyes  
Albino grief as said, gives wealth, good luck, not sin  
Taken from mother’s arms killed for the color of their skin  
Witch Doctors unethical Healers  
Trafficking body parts like Tanzania organ dealers  
 
I wish we all could live as one and the same  
The Ten Commandments should have condemned to hell by names  
Who really does no wrong  
On that theory I could go on all night long  
From the preacher to the teacher  
Can’t we all just get along  
Then again, it’s no longer echoed as a world peaceful song  
That concept died by skin tone alone  
 
This poem came to me  
While praying on my knees  
Asking forgiveness of American’s sins  
Taking the burdens back to its origin as this creation could begin once again  
Replaced now with worldly peace  
Things of importance such as technology will be decreased  
Talking to one another with receptive intentions will be increased  
Locked out  
Beyond a shadow of a doubt  
Locked out of what  
The divine answers uncut  
 
 
This is the posted poem that went with this creation, this creation drew in some nice offers to purchase, however, I had to advise my bloggers on the Dark Web, this creation was for advertising my catalogue.
 
 
🤎
 
#ChildrenOfTheSun