Crowned in Truth

I walk with the weight of my ancestors' cries, Echoes of stories distorted by lies. They told me my worth was measured in chains, That my name, my skin, should carry me shame. But the Most High whispers through my veins, A bloodline untouched, divine remains. Set apart, ordained, a child of light, Birthed in power, forged in might. I traced the scrolls, I searched the past, Through stolen tongues and shadows cast. They hid my glory, blurred my name, Yet truth still burns, unbound by flame. I was told my hair was tangled wrong, That my melanin was weak, not strong. But each coil holds the breath of kings, My skin sings songs the heavens bring. The rage it burned, a holy fire, Fueling my steps, lifting me higher. For every truth that broke my chains, Joy and sorrow danced in flames. I am the dawn, the rising sun, A prophecy yet to be undone. A royal child, a sacred seed, Rooted deep in prophecy. So let them whisper, let them scheme, They cannot steal what God redeemed. I stand in knowledge, crowned and free, A Black woman in divine decree.