It’s funny the things that touch your soul
The things that break you
And make you mold.
Locs of tartar green and dusty demons
All created from these horrid feelings.
Shave my head and let my mind shine bright…
These Vines that grow from my mind never knew such height
Like a priestess ascending to her final transition,
My alpha eye looks toward the light
That my Locs may gain life…