The Ancestral Witness
Chains broken By death and being Born again: I hear them, Momma and Daddy, Big Ma V and them, all Way back to cotton fields, And charred bloody trees, They speak in psalms, Lyrical rituals from on high, Prophetic whispers in ill winds, Saying these ain’t the last days. We bear witness in groaning chants And holy shouts of saints, […]
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