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Rooted And Blessed In My Exposure
So many young lives I have been a Nightingale unto, nursing wicked choices
Trying to find that beautiful spark in the dark, somewhat opened eyes, bathed in stone hearts, give rises to maddening voices
Changed in the matter of moments with treating the elements of a torn soul
In the cradle of time my pouring streams never cease its universal flow
It patrols on within the depths by my Creator, blessed on the current where it softly consoles
Regrets confessed from mouths, praying, hoping, humanity needing to be reassured lifespan will get better at any cost
The passage of my Pineal Gland sees life and the skeletal appearance of failing breaths
Psalms verse twenty-three read in the declining hours to give a weary spirit 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 ravines may go
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 if so, why isn’t color blindness the name of life’s game
As a healer, I hear those calls when hearts are lying in wait, I can never measure, or give you the sight of death
When the body has given its all and it now only wants to return to dust, to be reborn unto its divine home for external rest
The word terminally ill will never fit the bill, it is more a celebration of a beautiful sunrise and sunset
Energy infusion at best, universal recycling, tears shedding in remembrance and emotions felt
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 ounce 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 civilization without, sees it’s 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 the 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 trials, tribulations, or by life’s tests
We are all one whisper from 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 fear 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
Soulful healer, spiritual fighter, blessed lineage of French Moorish Queens
Let awoken minds speak of what blinded eyes have not yet 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 blasphemy 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 deeds riding on pale horses
We are down here in in the belly of the beast
By His divine oath, His word, I am rooted and blessed in my exposure to stand on my feet
Into your mind, consecrated words, will always reach, my mission is to softly teach
I listen as Mother Nature and her sources of survival, air, water, earth, fire to mankind by observation is to preach
Shalom
Trying to find that beautiful spark in the dark, somewhat opened eyes, bathed in stone hearts, give rises to maddening voices
Changed in the matter of moments with treating the elements of a torn soul
In the cradle of time my pouring streams never cease its universal flow
It patrols on within the depths by my Creator, blessed on the current where it softly consoles
Regrets confessed from mouths, praying, hoping, humanity needing to be reassured lifespan will get better at any cost
The passage of my Pineal Gland sees life and the skeletal appearance of failing breaths
Psalms verse twenty-three read in the declining hours to give a weary spirit 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 ravines may go
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 if so, why isn’t color blindness the name of life’s game
As a healer, I hear those calls when hearts are lying in wait, I can never measure, or give you the sight of death
When the body has given its all and it now only wants to return to dust, to be reborn unto its divine home for external rest
The word terminally ill will never fit the bill, it is more a celebration of a beautiful sunrise and sunset
Energy infusion at best, universal recycling, tears shedding in remembrance and emotions felt
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 ounce 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 civilization without, sees it’s 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 the 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 trials, tribulations, or by life’s tests
We are all one whisper from 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 fear 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
Soulful healer, spiritual fighter, blessed lineage of French Moorish Queens
Let awoken minds speak of what blinded eyes have not yet 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 blasphemy 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 deeds riding on pale horses
We are down here in in the belly of the beast
By His divine oath, His word, I am rooted and blessed in my exposure to stand on my feet
Into your mind, consecrated words, will always reach, my mission is to softly teach
I listen as Mother Nature and her sources of survival, air, water, earth, fire to mankind by observation is to preach
Shalom
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