The Softness Of The Sunrise

There was a time unto the sunrise the oceans navigating my sailing ship    
The anchor to my heart, that told me love radiates from the deep abyss    
Unlocking his chains that longs to be free    
Rebirth from the shackles of his mind, from my home, we dream, as lost entities funnel in the sea    
Give him freedom in his unwavering quest    
I heard the calling as he appeared as a warrior wearing the crest of Allah's armored vest    
His voice resonating like the roar of the jungle heard from afar    
From the pilgrimage in his journey, his eyes upon the glory of following the Eastern Star    
      
Who are you, my stalwart King    
Do you feel the might of your bite to wear upon the mane of your head, Heaven’s sacred bling    
The crown of Elohim He gives unto the bearer of an unwavering soul    
The hieroglyphics found in his heart, cradled by his mind, in the freedom of his movement, his spirit becomes his sacred scrolls    
I cannot hold any man’s hand if he refuses to stand
Yet I will clasp onto his truth, as being a woman to uplift him as a man
Uphold and validate the illumination of his wisdom    
Paired with his Kingdom, as one, we shall come    
Take my incantations blessed from the core of this Yoruba Goddess’ heart    
Can you lead my footsteps to pave the path when I lose my way, where we both survive earthly chaotic dark    
      
I do not survive by the caldron of money, I have the love of the universe, it's my consecrated honey    
I do not need the discomfort of fame      
I am coveted by the Supreme High in Him, the oath of my survival is found in His name    
I dwell in quietness of solstice solitude yet can uplift any King’s mane    
To his rightful throne, his superlative glory    
Above the stars, we shall reach the skies, devoid of Hell’s purgatory    
I am the feebler vessel in this realm we call life    
Henceforth, resilient, honorable, and softness in my comfort to step into my stilettos to become of any man’s wife    
No given strife    
      
Only a blessing if his mind is in union with mine    
Our breaths entwined    
Hand in hand found within the doctrine of mystique’s sublime    
Where we can talk, debate about trivial pursuits    
Sharing the essence of my sacred juice      
Upon his muscular chest, my intellect tenderly rests    
We blend in and out of time    
Our powers to be as we seek      
Greatness defines      
Dialects speaks, invocations laminated as potent as droplets of vintage wine    
      
      
Shalom    
 
The Queen Of The Waterloo