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Remembering a Time of Terror
Possessing the bodies of humans, they were the demons that trumpeted across the tracks into the Chosen’s Dominion on the Black Wall St. Soulless beings whose forefathers had sold their hearts to Satan the day they ate the fruit and depigmented an Ethiopian Hebrew-prince, whose name was Yahshua which means the salvation of God. They seemingly murdered him by desecrating his throne rewriting history for this new man-made god in their own image.
The ship Jesus docked, and the eagle had landed just as predicted.
And when the yoke of iron had been finally removed by the stroke of a pen four scores later, angels of light flew on chariots of steel through the night sky. They reached their unmelonated palms and abominable fingers into the heavens, grabbed a hand of full stars and angrily cast them in jealousy upon the peaceful descendants of Ibraham that dwelled in the District of Greenwood in the diaspora.
Now 300 plus charred bodies lay scattered across a sea of smoldering desolation. The Africans’ diamond village that once sparkled like a black Mecca in the west was reduced to mere ashes.
The head angel boasted “this is good.” He became arrogant of his achievements for he thought he’d won the battle over the children of God, and so he called himself civilized and the savior of the white race. He pridefully placed his throne on Brady Hill above the kings and kingdoms of the earth and gave it to his earthly son, who renamed their District “The Brady” so no soul would remember the Greenwood District. He coronated himself Lord of Lords and King of Kings like he has done so many times before in history. Then forced the peoples of the earth to bow to his demands and gave them the alternative of death and destruction if they chose to speak the truth, protest, and rebel.
They only became primitive to him because he rebelled against God and became god-like. He and the other earthly gods threw confusion into the minds of the citizens of the world by stealing and abusing the light-of-knowledge God had placed into the spirits of the children that once dwelled on the Ethiopia continent.
Sadly, he couldn’t stop his evil ways because he’d been cursed due to the sins of his forefathers. So the darkness of his nature made him slap Ethiopia’s sister, his father renamed America until black tears gushed from her face and caused contractions in her womb that the Africans felt on her belly – they said they felt like earthquakes.
During her period the gods of Brady and his people used up Ethiopia hard and pimped her out until a stream of blood flowed from between her legs and across the seas to another place where her children had been prophesied to scatter.
Thus there can be no reconciliation when God and my holy ancestors have told me the spiritualness of this war. That the war is not over, it has simply mutated and evolved into another type of pathology. The race war can only end when hate decides to confront itself and turn from its wickedness in the form of modern-day equality and builds the integrity to reach across and lift the other up.