The Peculiar Institution

We will gain the inevitable triumph,
so help us God.
Ripped away from the true Most Highly,
We go from text to sub-text:
Lost sovereignty.
The relationship between language and culture:
A change in culture equals a change in language.
Stolen was a verb base and given was a noun base society.
Say no to ‘Massa’ and ‘mista’
‘cuz I is a person defined divinely.

We are a diverse populous of nations characterized
as Beasts having no souls to save.
Their ignorance of a civilization
they cannot identify.
Here comes a conversion story.
To those who have not been through it,
the hoops of a Nation have been broken.

In the beginning,
pay homage to creation, ancestors, sub-divisions, worldview,
and thinking of himself as a part of the people.
Flash! Pop! The goes the propaganda shots,
mass misery and death.
God, don’t let the ill-treatment,
neglect based upon race get the best of me.
You made us peculiar in form
and have assigned us to this peculiar institution.

For the place where selling labor as the property,
we are indentured.
For the place where immigrants pay passage into the land of the free;
A nation of the free?
Ain’t anything free to me!
We live in irony,
where the Orphan train, from east-to-west,
gleans lost generations like the seasons.
Displacement reinforces distant questions,
forcing light in the Blackout.

Speaks does this peculiar institution.
At 9 o'clock in the darkness,
a prime time for high society in the darkness.
Macro psychologies masks rivalries—
erupts like gangs, generations slain—
We got murder for hire and promote genocide for land;
The U.S. using Guerilla warfare to get the upper hand.