THE BLACK LIGHT, THE BLACK TRUTH.

He was a man.
Yes he was alright

His step was one
Strong.
His skin shone, dark as gold in the heat of the sun.
His hands swung when he walked
Ripped, raw, gentle.
His hair was fine as wool. Woven in divinity.
Brought forth by a womb dark as the tents of kadar.
His voice was like the wind
Infinitely mystical
Unstopably blowing
So dark he couldn't be picked out of a crowd of normal people. (His people).

His image was captured before yesterday , captured yesterday and treated as dirt on the foreign land , forced to sing in a strange land ~by the rivers of Babylon...

For lack of knowledge my people perish. Stop lying to me
I know my history.

Free today but still insulted
Held in contempt
Despised
Shrouded
But freed in thought

Wanted at birth ,
I was safely hidden among my like(not in a land where I would stand out)
Among my like! to escape the wicked hand of the enemy.

Safe , safe in a land where all babies looked just like me.
With feet like brass burnt in a furnace ...

I seek to free my people
From a warped knowledge steeped deep in ages of prejudice.
Perpetrated to promote the subjugation of my people.

Seek knowledge
Be freed in thought.



Edith Faalong. 2012