Love, a weaver, with threads of light,
It binds us together, ever so tight.
From familiar strands, a comfort we glean,
But love's tapestry, ever unseen,

Holds surprises, in colors so bright,
Unforeseen wonders, born in the night.
Adventures unfurl, on wings we take flight,
Hand in hand, bathed in love's gentle light.

New passions ignite, a vibrant display,
Dreams take on wings and soar far away.
Love's tender touch, a symphony rings,
How love shall bring us new things.

Veiled prophets of the sands of time,
Whispers echo in a cryptic rhyme.
Oracles whisper, secrets untold,
Of futures unfolding, both brave and bold.

Eyes pierce the veil, through ages they see,
Triumphs and trials are yet to happen.
Mortals seek guidance, a whispered plea,
To chart a course on life's stormy sea.

But riddles confound, a tapestry spun,
Of cryptic warnings, battles yet won.
Free will is a compass, a path to define,
The Oracles murmur, the choice will be thine.
Only through the oracles of time

when
God takes control
your hands
are
the
architect of the soul

death cast her shadow
while
embraced in her arms
and
death is my sunset
while
death is my dawn

Dawn's gentle light, a soul's first sip,
Gratitude's warmth, from fingertip
To grateful heart, a brimming well,
Kindness itself, is the story to tell.

Nature's embrace, a calming breeze,
The laughter that rings through rustling leaves.
Passions pursued, a fire's bright gleam,
Chasing a dream, a fulfilling stream.

Love's gentle touch, a quiet delight,
Fill your cup full, with the purest light.
Thus, to fill thy cup with good

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

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.