Discussion in 'Black Poetry - Get Your Flow On!' started by ASHANTA, Jul 21, 2003.
Thy wounds that surface as the heat of hell,
yes indeed u hit a note here
(of thy father) yesssssssssssssss!!!
Woah! Your words feel so good to the spirit! It makes me want to sing! Thank you! The wrath of my father is fierce like that!
good work, this is a nicce piece.
I rise you, I rise you, I rise you, I reclaim your stool, what God has ordained no man can erase. I stand before the crying tree, the chains that bond my hands, and the blood that drips upon my mouth, the knot that chains my neck, swing me, beat me, play the death march . I shall never die I am the blood of my brother, links to my veins. I shall release my spirit and haunt you through my seed, for I shall not dye. Even throw you nailed me to the cross. I have return and shall return over and over. I reclaim my stool and my Queen shall be the eyes of my destiny.
Separate names with a comma.