The end of the rickety Ogene dance
Did not hinder your trance
From beclouding me
In a stance.
She that builds veins
In my soul
She that turns echoes
To known words.
In my soul
She that turns echoes
To known words.
She mesmerizes,
She heals,
She voices,
She corrects.
She heals,
She voices,
She corrects.
Her poe-tree drops
Fragrant fruits
That gives man the right to write
And to feel alright.
Her tree is for the strong hearted
Who bears sharp pain
In order to pluck the golden apple.
Fragrant fruits
That gives man the right to write
And to feel alright.
Her tree is for the strong hearted
Who bears sharp pain
In order to pluck the golden apple.
It is she that comforts Haiti
To be strong hearted.
She stops war and depression
But she gives love and attention.
To be strong hearted.
She stops war and depression
But she gives love and attention.
Poe-tree gives imaginative fruits
And allows man to wallow in the silence
Of our orange thoughts.
Poe-tree blesses man with silence
And kills man with a critic's sword.
And allows man to wallow in the silence
Of our orange thoughts.
Poe-tree blesses man with silence
And kills man with a critic's sword.
