(FROM THE FORGE TO THE FIRE)
THE BEAT... YOU BETTA LISTEN...
https://youtu.be/NWj0DyfIj5U
Could you be an angel?
A theoretical being carved from the seam... Ripped from the makings of another cosmos.
I mean could it be that you exist at the edges of my peripherals... Where I see you fleetingly?
A slice of divinity... A flash of serinity... I digress rather deeply.
Could you be the one to touch me and raise me from my death?
A child of segregation, slavery and mental drudgery as fed to the masses of we as information... Such things got me in a quandary as I navigate the pages of all this deception.
Where once our ancestors walked with thee in gardens of splendor and blew sonic trumpets we now live denying our identity.
And you angel make me peruse pon these things as I sit surrounded brick and concrete... Inhaling auto fumes... Watching feet hit black asphalt on the way to serve the beast... Angel speak to me.
Sing me the ancient tomes that rang the alarms of The Book and the Quran and raised dry bones... Built them anew with vicera and sinew... Clouds of smoke and fire as they grew.
On Angel could you make me well rounded... 360 degrees and built on solid foundation... Able to weather the storm...
I once heard a story that you were created of fire... The light...
That you were the spark that would ignite whole nations...
Could you be that Angel?
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY
THE BEAT... YOU BETTA LISTEN...
https://youtu.be/NWj0DyfIj5U
Could you be an angel?
A theoretical being carved from the seam... Ripped from the makings of another cosmos.
I mean could it be that you exist at the edges of my peripherals... Where I see you fleetingly?
A slice of divinity... A flash of serinity... I digress rather deeply.
Could you be the one to touch me and raise me from my death?
A child of segregation, slavery and mental drudgery as fed to the masses of we as information... Such things got me in a quandary as I navigate the pages of all this deception.
Where once our ancestors walked with thee in gardens of splendor and blew sonic trumpets we now live denying our identity.
And you angel make me peruse pon these things as I sit surrounded brick and concrete... Inhaling auto fumes... Watching feet hit black asphalt on the way to serve the beast... Angel speak to me.
Sing me the ancient tomes that rang the alarms of The Book and the Quran and raised dry bones... Built them anew with vicera and sinew... Clouds of smoke and fire as they grew.
On Angel could you make me well rounded... 360 degrees and built on solid foundation... Able to weather the storm...
I once heard a story that you were created of fire... The light...
That you were the spark that would ignite whole nations...
Could you be that Angel?
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY
