II.

In moonlight, black boys look blue,

In moonlight, our mothers reveal their truths,

See, nobody understands the struggle of the black man, like the black woman,

Yet, nobody disrespects the black queen like the black king.

So here we are,

At a crossroad,

Where the world tells me I’m too bold,

And my black king tells me to watch my tone,

Unaware that through me the words of his mothers flow.

But the black queen sees the royalty in his eyes,

Doesn’t know how to correct the ignorance he resides

In,

Doesn’t recognise that it is through her he came to be

Through her he is named royalty,

In her limbs he became the man he is

Through her breasts he gained the power of the earth

And Mother Nature crowned him with her leaves,

So, here we are,

The black king has forgotten his roots,

Forgotten the oracles his mothers prayed to,

The gods she sacrificed to,

The story of his emancipation ingrained in each lash,

That scarred her back,

She poured her essence from the roses between her thighs,

So...

In moonlight black boys look blue,

Only because it is

In moonlight our mothers reveal their truths,

For

In moonlight our mothers sacrificed their bodies,

And buried their souls into the trees,

So that every black king could see,

That the very essence of his being,

Is engraved in every-thing.