I thought I heard the wind whisper,
such a silent cry.
The earth is now roaring,
underneath the crust.
The son gives tender kisses,
but the clouds just pour,
nature created, birst.
Preparing for the dawn,
she opens up,
the sky is her canvas, tonight.
It's time for freedom,
new awakenings,
that shatters in the light.
Exploring the seas,
she sails, the oceans,
the burden of water, drowns
her mind.
Diving, she refuses to admit,
the sun is bound to fall,
while time rewinds.
Dawn will come again,
she will feel this pain,
it's the cycle of her retreat.
She will one day break, birst,
Mother Nature and Her Son,
will meet.
BINABASA MO ANG
POETRY: The Words Of Those Unheard
PoetryDive into the beauty of melanin, evaluating the DNA of our roots. Understand the importance of our complexion and the fight in our souls, god-given & handmade. Come into the mind of a black woman, it's crazy chile.
