I surrender to the God of liberty
who makes me lie down in eternal love,
and the malice-infested swamps
dive in my peace
trying to impurify the
esteem of my being.
Here stands a society ready
to annihilate me
their guns point with rage
trying to contradict my black skin
into the depths of sin
I am not a badge of shame.
I always kept myself locked in
became a fiend of my own mind
suppressed in the name
of slavery and injustice
my roots were planted in a dry harvest.
My heart is worn out,
dogged up is my throat
when my speech is unable
to cultivate the capacity of my ethnicity.
Where is the pride?
Where is the peace?
Stay woke, my people.
We need to develop
inherent worth and dignity
resist conformity of the regime
revive our immortal spirits
and begin to breathe in the cosmic of superiority and solidarity.
Black people, we are magic.

silent tears resemble a woeful creature
silent tears carries the loudest pain
silent tears brings pursuit of happiness.

Elohim, The Great
infernal affairs in your creation
reign over this madness.

Lives killed by the creation
Pathological action againsty humanity
Where is the peace?

The murk of society
engraving mortal deprivity
ruining the presence of peace.

Last Friday night
across a summer’s night
the moonlit afire of cosmic presence
endured a promise of good peace.
As I entered my home, 9.13PM
I received a text from my dad
informing me that he’s been
involved in a car accident.
My flesh was worn out
from the day’s activities,
and melancholy added pressure
to my bloodstreams due to
my dad’s unfortunate event.
I could feel uncertainty
filling my unconscious mind,
drowning in sadness ‘cause
for the past six years
its been a normality for him;
facing insurance policies, getting medical treatment, a few calls
from family and friends ...
and he’s okay.
I threw a heavy stone
in my heart
and it broke me,
tears kissed my face
and I cleansed my soul with them.
Few minutes later he texted:
“in 20 min. time I’ll be home,”
and I wondered if this will
happen for the sixth time,
if he’ll survive another tragedy.
But whispers of hope said,
“you’re blessed, he’s blessed. be grateful. all is well.”
And I was okay.