An Afro-Caribbean elegy song

by Angel Vazquez

Evil comes to our favorite muse tree.

The spirit screeched her last catch of breath.

We rant lilt; the gulps of echos sound free.

Whop hits the crowd hard, rejecting her death.

We dance to Babalu to restore health.

But no need to speak with God's referee.

Saint Lazarus awakens healthy wealth.

As we chant, disco afro-king decrees.

In the rain, mother earth grows winds and trees.

She boosts our voices with cleansing zoom strength.

To raise ourselves on the theater marquee.

Her joint action is heavenly in length.

She trained us to research and learn success.

Afro-Caribbean elegy tree.

It would be unnatural to give repress.

Vivian Castro Mosley is God's tree.