Something ABout Mary
And still, I rise.
Fighters of the Universe
Asks if I am still a fighter.
Are you still a fighter?
A poet maybe with a gift of prophesy
But splattered like black paint
With ash on the ground.
I don't know if I rise or not anymore.
Constrained, punished, victimized.
But partially untouched.
Where did my virginity go?
Fighters of the Universe
Asks if I am still a fighter.
Are you still a fighter?
A poet maybe with a gift of prophesy
But splattered like black paint
With ash on the ground.
I don't know if I rise or not anymore.
Constrained, punished, victimized.
But partially untouched.
Where did my virginity go?