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As the moist trickles down from within our deep,

We must permit the tears to flow and seep

To dampen our sorrows as we weep.

 

You could say for all we cared,

That her wings had been clipped because she dared.

Well, she is dead.

But she’s ours

For she did rain non stop shedding sweat and blood over hours.  

You could say your worse

That her life was snatched by he that steereth the sail of lives.

But we know the better words

That her life has soared into climes that only she can reign.

Like the way an Ebony can beyond any doubt, Reign.

 

Shut up already.

What,

 now you found your voice and are ready?

At a time that dark clouds had gathered,

When we feared the reign of hopelessness had weathered.

Only She offered hope by parting the skies,

Dashing down through the chinks of heaven and unto our despair

And in the dark glittered like the black star that she is.

 

She is ours.

Her memories shall reign black beyond the years and hours.

We shall celebrate her like the way she towers

Above all that came under her spell and powers.

For this her passing, this her greatest career move, only empowers

We that cherished her reign as akin to that of lovers.

 

Our Black Hawk is down but not here.

She has settled into the hereafter as another Boss

And on her own terms, shall remain there.

But this loss, is our loss.

@uhurubardman

 

#LiteraryForce #StillWeRise