“My Nocturnal Sacred Oil”

We stand as earthly enigmas, the Children of the Sun, unsolved mental puzzles, a maze through divinity’s reprieve                
My heart fortified for the benevolence as I bow until the Yoruba Goddess Yemaya, Goddess Oya, and Goddess Oba, upon the world for which the sea and the wind unto humanity flows, knowledge is power, and wisdom is gold, rise your staff as you come to believe                
Words of comfort in who you see never to deceive                
Blessed by thy presence thy will shall be done                
Given by the Father sanctioned by the resurrection and the nutrients of the Sun                
    
The channel of apathy I am blinded when hearts come to see, feel, or uprise in the harm of its need                
Your ideology to see wonders not fully grasped by a microscope with the naked eye to ever perceive                
I am faith as I stand in light and truth of that tiny mustard seed                
In life, one must never communicate the core of the soul and the hemispheres of the brain to embark in triviality of ignorance                
Utterance in disparity from perceptions, degradations, the error of ways is not upon a pretense to dispense                    
    
I am, therefore, I will always be thee to please, appease, my heart to humanity I softly lease                
Awakened in the touch by the indoctrinate upon the scrolls of time      
The unbroken seals given by the veils of the skies      
North, South, East, West tenderly confessed the truth from off my lips                
No daughter of the darkness shall ever be commemorated in me from the hair strands to the sway of my seductive hips                
In the cathedral of death, Proverbs caressed as you pray for eternal rest      
The ethos, the pathos, and logos coveted in Psalms at best              
Confessions from waging tongues, false temples, singing in pews of enlighten bygone passage                
    
Upon the mountaintops my soul asunder from death, embedded by earth universal’s gifts                
Waiting for the afterlife, until Judgment Day, not knowing if you were a Judas, Saint, or labeled a Witch                
I am me, until ashes-to-ashes dust-to-dust      
Rebirth in astral enlightenment, given as the bread of life, surrounding by the spiritual topping of its crust      
The trinity of your life has already prophesized as in God we trust                
              
Heaven shall witness of its great embrace                  
Knots entwined as wood and lace, forgotten good and only evil permeates wicked minded space                  
Thy kiss to arouse from succulent bliss                
Divine Angels and cosmic Muses gives weary respite with empathy of conceivable reminisce                            
In the realm between such sweet bereavement and life as it departs                  
Immoralities hang in the balance of life, the spiritual alliance preparing its divinity to asunder the mind from the heart                
The beckoning of trumpets, horns                  
Archangel Gabriel, the messenger to relieve the burdens of the mental unadorned      
What good unto a heart and intellect if its sacred temple had withered in faith      
The vows of repentance have been jagged into pieces, torn                  
    
The Creator’s will to ordain its mentality never to reborn                  
Archangel Michael, ensues the relent of your will to battle on                  
A soulful hymn echoing of its beautiful song                  
Resuscitating breaths lingers as the night is long                  
Reversing the hands of time, as deific intervention has never met                  
Passion, desires, emotions lost, as never felt                  
    
A true giver of much delight                  
I replace carnage with love on Earth as in Heaven, with the last breath you breathe, your noted last rites                        
Reincarnated in time to soar as wings are finally given by the highest spiritual degree                
My temple will always fly free                
Always give comfort to heal, shed light for the lost looking to be redeemed                
Signed with the lineage of my French Haitian Creole blood and adopted by the mystique of my creed            
Kismet Karma now tenderly breathes            
            
The world is moving, grooving, we seek guidance as the next person              
It must be unsurpassed when self-created atheists float in the core of the intelligence making the thought process worsen              
The imagined perceptions are non-conceivable to make anyone believe they can summon, conjure, or began diabolical ritual when cursing                            
It’s nothing below, I can assume, only ordered chaos              
To denounce one’s soul, you beg for retaliation from a fabricated war, whereas the essence of the soul in the reprimand of its loss              
Satanism gives you the pseudo false sense of influence to accept the fate of all sins              
Doppelganger of a hellish detention comes through in the form of a fallen demoness, an earthly succubus, or a hellish Jinn              
Much honor unto Heaven to descend as one third company of the Morning Star’s followers fell, which will rise, but never to ascend again                              

Therefore, it’s all illusion of substance most take upon to entertain within a quiet fantasyland              
Blinding the masses about the Illuminati, and their perfect world order of turmoil no one could understand                
The Freemasons, The Knights Templar, and the Carthers, surely do they not fall under Satanic strategic plans              
If one genuinely believes in their convictions of Occultism, Satanism, you revere of its importance                
The truth always hurts when minds cannot see past their own eyes                
The ones who have lived life in hocus pocus gibberish or non-believing yet hoping to buy a ticket beyond the stars in the sky      
        

Selah