Beneath the cloak of night, where shadows cut with scorn,She stands, edge of the world, where endless seas are born.With each wave’s crash, a whisper from the past,Spirits of ancestors, whose journeys were their last.

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In the deep, she sees reflections not her own,A lineage of strength, through suffering, shown.The sea, a mirror of trials faced, endured,A testament to those whose voices go unheard.

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It speaks of those who never felt this land’s embrace,African souls lost, swallowed without a trace.Yet, in her gaze, their legacy survives,Fueling the strength to face a world that deprives.

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To be Black, she knows, is to hold an ocean’s might,Against tides of hate, a never-ending fight.Yet, in the sea’s embrace, she finds her calm,A solace from the storm, a healing balm.

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The sea, vast and deep, where silenced voices roam,Becomes her sanctuary, her ancestors’ home.In its endless rhythm, she finds a powerful plea,A call to remember, to fight, to simply be.

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For in this world, where darkness seems to reign,The sea remains a witness to the pain.But within its depths, a strength stirs anew,A force as relentless as the ocean’s hue.