Each step a whisper, a heart's soft beat,
The map unfolds, the path less steep.
Stars as our guide, a distant gleam,
We chase the horizon, a waking dream.

Doubt lingers near, a fleeting shade,
But passion's fire, cannot fade.
With every sunrise, a renewed vow,
Inch by inch, closer somehow.

The summit beckons, bathed in gold,
Our dreams take flight, a story told.
Yes, we get closer to our dreams tonight

Cracks in our walls, bathed in light,
Fractures we feared, healed just right.
Weathered by storms, hand in hand,
Bloomed in a love we unplanned.

Brokenness woven, a tapestry bright,
Scars whispering tales in the night.
Together we rose, strong and true,
A flawed masterpiece, me and you.
When we have turned into something beautiful

every
word and thought
brands the mark of slavery
the mark of Satan
the mark of the beast
upon
their backs and shoulders
of a stolen People
from
the
sweet Motherland of Africa
without
being breastfed anymore
shall
hoist the sails of slave ships
bound for
the
new world

Ink bleeds whispers, secrets kept,
A story on paper, unslept.
Words like windows, veiled, and thin,
Reflecting a soul held within.

Eyes, unseen, guide every line,
A silent observer, entwined.
Their gaze shapes the moonlit tide,
Emotions in verses confide.

They watch as the reader takes hold,
A story unfolds, to be told.
Springs from the fresh eyes behind the poem

When love is a shapeless flame,
It licks at the edges of known,
A yearning that whispers no name,
A hunger for hearts yet unshown.

It dances in whispers and sighs,
A warmth with no form to define,
A mist in the lover's own eyes,
A promise, a feeling, entwined.

Though shapeless, it burns oh so bright,
A beacon in the darkest of the night.

when
we
spread our wings
tonight
like
the
hummingbird
in
flight
brings
the
gift of light
when
shining
through
the
tiny cracks of
your soul

When I opened my eyes, all I could see was a landscape full of trees with empty nooses

My father was a runaway slave, who was captured by them bounty hunters. Daddy wanted to be free and provide for his family

Why do we **** and enslave another man for their differences or the color of his skin? Well, the answer my friend is blowing in the wind. The answer derives from the sweet taste of sin, created by the love, the power, and the color of money

The empty nooses keep on blowing in the wind. Still, I remember, when they kicked, beat, and then dragged my daddy, unconsciously toward that old oak tree. Lord, back in the day, Colored People were restricted from sitting or resting underneath the trees with nooses

After they captured my pappy; they wrapped a dry noose around his neck so tight, that I could smell the rope burns on his neck. However, when I opened my eyes, I could only see a landscape full of trees with empty nooses.

They hung my daddy from that tree. Well, I was six years old, and I dropped to my knees. Still, I ask the Lord to spare my father’s life and to forgive these evil people, for they do not know what they do.

God put His hand in the story. Then, He clapped His Hands, and His spiritual power released the nooses from all the dead slaves.

God said, “Walk with me, and you shall receive eternal life in the kingdom of heaven. Walk with me down this road of light."

Then, He hurled a bolt of lightning at the landscape of empty nooses and said, from this day forth, I promise thee, that empty nooses shall never be the fruit among these trees.

Never again, shall empty nooses blow in the win