A hathor original
Master of skill
Mistress of power
A cult of misfit pride
Occupied on a prison planet
All are psychologically incarcerated upon
Forgotten hieroglyphic language held hostage from our tounges
Eviscerated like the skin of a carcuss
Black cipher of unapologetic hues
You can hear the sound in our color because art is an instrument of visual intake
Different shades like the rainbow
Gold in your peripheral when I approach your being
My Black is Beautiful
We are magic
We are MOTHER
We are FIRST
we are the brains, the power and creator
Telepathy of the 42 commandments like the creed ate her
Education restored from thirst of self assurance
With a medium to communicate ancestral traditions
Nostalgia like Kush feelings
We are the Indica to our brothers existence
Reason for their High stature carved in stone
Even though they are stoned
Let our pride lift us
Our tounges are the power of life and death
Don't let your sisters suffer in silence
A God of universal truth, vocal of our awareness
I am not angry
Don't reflect your lack of intelligence on me
Targets of being targeted for targeting
They try to divide and conquer, we need to unite to divide the criticism of another because we don't respect or understand others morals, being, or thoughts
Don't become conditioned to their tradition
When they see us uplifting
Veil of oppression will unravel the engagement of hate
Black was always in style
But it was more of an underground trend
The real hidden like harriet stepping into the light of a new day
Well, this ain't no news today . . .
That's why our skin is doused with hate, jealousy,  laughs and envy
Cause they ain't me
Hoover boards of kemetic energy
Tower over our existence
To communicate beams telling us what is next
In the end, the last laugh goes to me
Cause I figured that knowlegde
Now I have access to anything
So love your shade, it's a magnetic element
And your hair is your crown, & queen is your alias.      -Queenleft. ©