1800
Everything shall bow and tongue shall confess,
He is the traveler and independent soul death,
I pray you relax and pour the pearls,
Waiting for the turns to step aside from the world,
Walking into the flames unscathed by the coal,
Taking heart to my ancestors as their lives put on hold,
Preach the countryside left alone for the streets,
Confessing the wars of the rage in beats,
Bodies flock overcoming the stench our leader shares,
White as a pearl but black as a hair,
The thin lines between love and hate,
Our Big Mama humbles the pearly gates,
Back like father cooking on the grill,
Iced tea pitchers of the hollow chills,
Ever since I left the porch I had to address,
Stepping into the fight the nudeness I met,
Winning souls for him and how he put down,
Studying hard crochet gospels and smiling as clowns,
Its not gone but forgotten to be speaking it bold,
Overcoming death for the future to be told.
