My black queen,
I offered to give her the world,
And mine.

I brought her the draught that circled
The apex of the pyramids
With a portion of the nightly stars.

With me I brought the calm of sea
From the south of Nigeria
In the looms of my birth right.

The quartet of her throne was my Adam’s apple
You could hear her in the crack of my voice
As I sung psalms of praise.

I washed her hair at dusk
Adorned it with myrrh and frankincense
In the locks of her hair was my temple.

I was Maryannu of her majesty’s army,
Born to serve,
Guardian of her River Nile.

I stood watch over her shut eye
And in her awakening,
Her honey dipped iris breathes me new life.

She is earth,
The soul of a god,
She is supreme.

My black queen,
I told her I loved her,
And in my words she found novelty.

– Smyekh David-West.




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