There are no words, just moments.
Moments no one else understands.
These moments change us, they shape our view.
We relish in the fear, grasping the memories of those we've lost, clinging for hope of peace.
No explanation, no justifications can ease the waning of our souls, now demised with hatred and fury.
Even justice can't ease the weeping churning through our hearts now.
For we know the depths of this darkness, saturated and fueled by racism.
We will bury deep to hide these wounds with a pressure now the strongest will within us,
Draped beneath the cover of this false existence.
We feel the death inside us.
Why is race is the true wages of our sins?
Our faith, dangles from these tombs, caskets of cruel fate. Our heartbeat pulses through the sorrow for these losses, deafening even to friendly sympathy.
At night their ghosts dance through our homes clinging to the scent of their lost dreams
And we are lost to ourselves. Lost without them in grave pain.
We hunger only for their touch, sleepless and unmoved.