Black Poetry : Africa Cries I Reclaim Thy Rightful Place The Serpents Has Been Summons He now Must L

Discussion in 'Black Poetry - Get Your Flow On!' started by ASHANTA, Jan 21, 2003.


    ASHANTA Well-Known Member MEMBER

    United States
    Jan 15, 2003
    Likes Received:
    Brooklyn N. Y.
    Africa Cries I Reclaim Thy Rightful Place
    The Serpents Has Been Summons.
    He now Must Leave My House~*
    By Jacqueline Amos

    I thy ancestor of the motherland ,.
    sits upon the rock of thy legacy,
    thou shall not be still, brutal murders,
    alienations of masses, in human acts,
    crime against society,
    diminishing my spiritual grounds,
    of my ancestors lands.

    Un Compromising attacks ,
    of the future and the past,
    I reclaim my stool, visitors must leave.
    Death in the name of justice.
    Never again shall my sons be lynched ,
    through the corners of there minds,
    and castrated of there dreams,
    I the Kings an Queens of my fathers palace.
    I reclaim on this day.

    I the blackberry brandy,
    cut from the nectars of thy roots.
    Reclaim my rightful place.
    I the legacy of my fathers spiritual palace.
    I shall return and reclaim my rightful place.

    Africa’’ Africa” Africa

    My arms are long, my hair is wooly,
    I carried the world on my back.
    I come with revenge.
    You are commanded to leave my palace,
    I come with the army of thy God.

    I sing the song of glory,
    The curse shall be in stored,
    on your family tree.
    The thrift of thy ancient dust.
    Hate me be me,
    Hero’s nothing but a sandwich.

    A Spirit that refuse to be converted,
    shall not be silence.
    I the ancestor of the motherland,
    have spoken.
    Freedom of my people ,
    shall not be denied.
    Thy ancestors of a thousand voices ,
    shall not be move.
    Dreams of the future ,
    better then the history of the past.
    Rebuking in what was said then did.
    I break the chains,
    of the serpents ,
    that walk upon thy land.
    I the legacy of thy fathers words.

    Listen to the drums,
    as my ancestors march,
    thy children shall suffer no more
    listen the drums the warriors of thy God,
    they will be no victim song.
    Listen to thy children ,
    as they return from the pass,
    they will be no more slaughter ,
    upon my palace of love,

    visitor must now leave.
    Malicious powers of enemies ,
    stand before thy holy grounds ,
    like thieves in the night.
    I the spirit will sit before your death.
    I the eyes that man shall see,
    I the shoulder that he may lead,
    I the breath when its to hard to breathe,
    I the laughter when you bring them tears,
    I rise, in the name of thy almighty God,
    I command you to leave my house.

    Betrayal of my family tree,
    I am love, I am mercy,
    deep decree of God,
    the taste of bitter brimmed by curse,
    of serpents revenge.

    The dark has fallen, I awake, I am love,
    I am mercy, I am faith.
    Thou nights thou nights,
    thou days are flooded, by thy tears,
    will no longer run over.
    I the mind, I the womb,
    I the chosen of Gods grace,
    I the mother of the Universe.

    Motherland inheritance
    from God. I the mist of tears.
    I sought the essences of peace.
    I turn me gracefully.
    Thunderous storms above thy feet.
    Thirsting upon the nights,
    thy blood run through thy motherlands.
    My children of the child like heart.
    Thy cry through the night,
    the thoughts that shivers,
    the summoned of calm.

    My children turn a deaf ear,
    to thy words,
    and adapt the legacy of the devil himself.
    The curse shall be broken,
    thy God shall return upon the earth.
    Oh the greed of the universe,
    has tarnish the emperor of its on self worth.

    Thy sing the words of thy ancestors,
    many who have came,
    thy sons denied they rightful place.
    The harvest of the jewels,
    shall turn an tarnish,
    and kill the serpent ,
    who has stolen its great wealth.
    I am the whom thy seek.
    Thou gravest love, from thee,
    who gravest love from me.

    I summon the thieves ,
    that sold my children ,
    to serpents of disease,
    you shall be also feel the pain of the wipe.
    Nevertheless you wear the same face.

    There shall be no mercy,
    upon those who sold my children,
    to weakness of man,
    A sin against your own family tree.
    There shall be no bargaining,
    with the devil, there is no reasoning that I seek.
    Society Program Integrity,
    fear of slave mentality, extermination,
    destruction of a reproduction.
    See an self deceptions,
    Black glutton walk like a King ,
    talk like a serpent,
    hiding behind black face.

    Copywriter 2002

    Dedicated to:
  2. poeticdelight

    poeticdelight Member MEMBER

    Mar 22, 2001
    Likes Received:
    "Black glutton walk like a King ,
    talk like a serpent,
    hiding behind black face."

    this has deep meaning :)