As the power of my prayer ignites an internal spark through the pores of my fingertips, I glance at the vast amount of darkness as it swallows my vision. My eagerness of freedom cries to the throne of the most high, thoughts are diverted from the glamorous shine of the night sky. How it reflects what I see every day in the mirror when I say,
Black is Beautiful and how Beautiful is Black.
Goosebumps awake from slumber through my pigment. I shudder at the mistakes that led me to an everlasting fall in this darkened hole. Every day is a reminder that my sinful desires have elected to blacken me out. Beneath the sand pressure on this black opal of a heart has been soiled by goopy love, polished and cleansed by with mercy and forgiveness of god. Now a diamond, the shine from within has tormented the smut that once covered this dim vessel; without soot this hem could never glimmer. Now I say,
Black is Beautiful and how Beautiful is Black.
The prints of my character have been graffiti. The earth as my canvas has been sprayed by a scabbed intellect that reveals his wounds in due time. Blossoms from a black cloud that rained 11 years of order and instruction have mutated color of petals of what was a dying rose. Emerging through cracks from an unfinished road, the melanin of my surface adapts to the harsh conditions every day. Even in the sun, skin cells absorb damage from ultraviolet rays. grateful i am when i say,
Black is Beautiful and How Beautiful is Black.