my tongue bleached
my flag burnt from my skin
set up in flames, erasing any existence that I was once here
that my blood bled right here,
that these veins etched into my skin,
held such pride, held such dignity,
this golden skin of mine
made from God Allmighy above
I was a Queen
before they came and took my land
ripped every ounce of what was mine
took my name and made it english
made it so their lazy english had it lay easier on their crooked tongues
my home slaughtered from its roots
do you not understand that now when I look at my child,
I see a foreigner,
I do not see embelms of gold and green that glowed even in darkness
now only bullets and shattered pieces of my hom lay scattered between ruminants of coffins and coffee
I lost more than my home you see
when they came and took my land
as if it was their own, made it theirs,
made it less broken, made it so it fit their gums, their crooked palletes,
which lay with black hearts
now tell me do your gums bleed, just like my heart does,
for everytime I see one of mine shot dead,
more than a generation behind me dies too
Ancient history lies between these fingertips,
pirohetting between blisters and cuts so deep,
you will find these lacing your soul, like poison does
A Queen once laid here
in all her freedom, in all her joy
I used to run in acres of what was mine
of what was freedom
and what is freedom anyway
having been blinded from every sense of the word
do you know whats it like to have your family ripped to shreds
they have symphonies on just the war cry itself
do you know whats it like to know that once a lineage of people
sacrificed more than just themselves to fight for their country
for their blood
angels used to prostrate down, at the feet of the children of this land
but yet now they come to pray over dead bodies,
that lay innocent,
drowning in guilty blood, i
Recently I found my child, lost in the ruins, lost in the cracks
lost in this world, this materialistic world,
So I picked it up and held it against me,
So now I adorn my child,
upon my skin, my lips, my dark dark hair
every word I speak murmurs prayers for those who lost their lives,
these prayers marinate upon my tongue,
becoming a hum in tune with the earth alone.
Once a Queen lay here,
in her land,
so holy.