Black Poetry : I CRY

Discussion in 'Black Poetry - Get Your Flow On!' started by ASHANTA, Aug 26, 2004.

  1. ASHANTA

    ASHANTA Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    I Cry

    Sometimes when I'm alone
    I Cry, when the hero within can only see lonely.
    There is no star when man sleeps, truth of self
    Finally creeps, as the warrior that lives upon the day,
    The inner person greets you with tears, who is man who can live without love, a myth that he repeats, only he can believe,
    Oh thy God, who gentles the needs, nevertheless the demons that try to sneak as you sleep, the voice of the almighty protects you from self.
    What a blessing to have the almighty to release all your pain.
    I the spirit and the body that cries love greater than earth.
    I am on my own through laughter and tears.
    The tears I cry are bitter and warm.

    Trying to understand these words call love.
    Oh how the light shines upon the inner depth of my soul
    The night I cry alone, my journey is built on the love of God,
    The humanistic substances places on the lonely heart.
    I flow with life, which take no form
    I Cry because my heart is torn wanting to be love.
    I find it difficult to carry on.



    When you fight this battle alone, a voice to cry
    When you are alone, an ear to hear, a hand to comfort, and a smile when there are tears, when the light shines outside, and the darkness dwells within.
    Oh I cry beyond the night, but my sacrifice to God must be complete,
    God said those who suffer who come under me. I have felt the words many times, the sacrifice of thy father who created life, and those who turn there back on the almighty who breathe life upon there trust.
    What a bitter taste, but the love of thy God makes everything sweet.
    If I had an ear to confide,
    I would cry among the spirits that fight the same battle as I,
    but who do you know that stops that long,
    to help another carry on.
    Reality speaks there is no bonding when truth speak, only the voices that linker to self.


    Only thy God, the angels that fly upon my head,
    And then who am I to cry, when my brother died for a dream
    To bring my people across, oh that human desire, to be held, nevertheless the fire that slowly goes out, in restraint of pressure.
    The humanistic teaser, I cried a tear, and it ordained the fire
    That cries within.
    The world moves fast and my spirit release,
    And it would rather pass by.
    Oh the soft-spoken voice that lives within.
     
  2. $$RICH$$

    $$RICH$$ Lyon King Admin. STAFF

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    weep on sistah tyte write
     
  3. watzinaname

    watzinaname Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    The soft spoken voice within cries out. And so we hear. Keep those flows coming sista.