My Lineage

Mine is of a line of greatness
a page of hope,
a strong black rope.
The King on chess,
a soft flower.
A starting light
we burn at night
we’re that tower
of more than less.
Our fires are of wild egress.

We don’t disappear, we’re egress,
with time or less,
a strong tower
guarding each night
cause I am light
of a flower.
I am the chess
king on the rope.
With us, there’s hope.
That’s why my decent is greatness.

Ruddapoet