The Black Race

The Black Race

Night and day walk like the waves as life runs endlessly in the pity of the Godhead.
Like the scales we are joined to protect our culture, yet our strength is weakened by our love for Mammon.
How then shall we call the spade a spade when our intellect is chastised by our love for the White, leaving our brothers in the dark as our skin.
For I Rage not to faint, but to paint the gains of being a saint to my plate of faith.
With a sweet hate we welcome the strangers to steal our strength with our eyes covered by envy love for our bone and fleshy color.
Black is Strength, White is peace, yet our culture is being ravaged by the white we call peace.
They call us charcoals, yet out of us comes agility and strength, for our culture is embedded in our skin, and our traditions are hidden deep into our paradise for safety of the strangers we call for rescue.
History is dead, our culture is inffected, our traditions are neglected, as we war against each other, paving way for the strangers to dwell as King amongst our Kings.
How pitiable to see that;
Bodies are sold for technology,
Bodies are devalued for Mammon,
Bodies are cultivated for competition,
Bodies are nurtured for misuse in the latter,
They call me a wet dreamer, cos I soak my bed with liquids from my faded vision, each time I see the suffering the world has placed on my color.
Sometimes I tend to ask the questions, yet the answers seems to have a grudge on me.
Nature keeps telling me it’s a mistake of being Black, yet my color shines brighter in the daylight giving more opportunities to create awareness to the Dark.
I love my Color.
I love the Black Race!
God bless the Black Race!



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