A Letter to my Late Momma (Extension).
Your pneuma was called by a whistle of darkness,
A day a black goat was slaughtered
Concurred upon by elders and ancestors
That that sunday shall be of your last,
Your belief conflicting with customs and rituals
An adventure that left memories digging,
Digging my intellect a place of belonging
Unearthing the late possible your image
In faith that heavens...
A day a black goat was slaughtered
Concurred upon by elders and ancestors
That that sunday shall be of your last,
Your belief conflicting with customs and rituals
An adventure that left memories digging,
Digging my intellect a place of belonging
Unearthing the late possible your image
In faith that heavens...