There is nothing worse than tears not contained.
Tears that are left exposed without proper guidance.
Tears with experience privately poured out at a silent altar.
Questions that don’t have answers. Burdened, tired, lacking oxygen, living only on 20%, but, no one sees,
everyone is living a life that is not their own, lacking authenticity.
There’s a cry from the mountain top; Its siren is loud, but no one hears
lights out for truth, no one wants it.
Give them fake that’s all their appetite can stomach.
Crawl between the sheets and watch them self destruct.
Package your tears in a bottle and send them out to sea.
Someday someone will drink, blow the trumpet and start a war.
The revolution will commence when the child is ready to take the mantle.
Erect it, call forth the elect, the chosen for the day is coming.
The very thing you fear, you will need.
Black Panther hear us roar. We are coming.