Black Poetry : The Alter Of Ancient Dust

ASHANTA

Well-Known Member
REGISTERED MEMBER
Jan 15, 2003
1,859
74
Brooklyn N. Y.
The Alter Of Ancient Dust
Author Jacqueline Amos

If thy hold thy peace to darkness of the heart.
The harden of the rock,
of thy foundation shall surely die.
Servants that sings its own rules,
shall mold away and die.

Thy shall not hold thy peace,
of righteousness , thy darkness shall no longer,
sanctions thy truth.
Decaying of a world order,
which refuse to confess.
Wombs of earth ,
validated by the scorns of revenges,
Hostage to the devils revenge.


The Abomination of earth bows,
to a different high.
Immersions of a transformations,
of corrupt values of individuality ,
weeping that the soul,
has no strength of its own.


Oh thou face is covered with sand,
as I shield from the breeze,
that drifts across my plantations ,
of history documented,
the curse of the soul man.


Atonement of spirituality growth,
internal an external,
circle of life has stopped ,
360 degrees of equations,
that has rusted within the circles of life.


Shrines, and temples ,
bestowed upon fruitful worlds,
the devil has convicted ,
my fathers house upon the universe ,
of salvation there is no sanctuary,
that I may pray.

I stand before God ,
in the ancient memories of a better day.
Psychological lynching, activist,
only expressions for self,
I revolutionist, singing oh Mary
don’t you weep, Pimping ministers,
thank you Jesus devils,
prostituting my Heavenly Fathers name.
Oh Yea, Oh Yea,
come from beneath the cloth ,
of my sanctuary, leading my people to hell.

I Ancient Dust of the alter,
cry out in disbelief,
entrapment of Satan beliefs.
Extermination, Hate me be me,

Society program to destruct.
Betrayal by a place called earth.
I the ancient dust cry no more:
I have return to claim my rightful place,
cry not for me, cry for the world,
as it self destruct.
Trampling on creations, of the ancient dust.

Imbibing the spoken words ,
with disgrace, the ancient hat return,
to claim his rightful place.
Battle cry belligerency, will not access,
my fathers universe,
Freedom the spirits cry,,
ancient spirits awake,
they will never rest,
disgrace to there names,
by many who have no claim.

Derisions, of the holy grounds,
the symbols of emblems that set before,
the devil as he steals from the Universe.
The sounds of roars, the seas cry out,
the skies roars thunder,
the ancient dust have return.

Open Lynching, of the spoken
words will not be deleted.



Oh the light that shines,
among the diamonds and pearls,
sacred places, visualizations,
emotional, revolutions, meditations.
A people cannot manifest,
a hero until he merits his status ,
whether by mask are soul.

copywrite 2/2002:heart:
 

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