My holy ghost takes a million forms
The lives of others, I could be them
Their Emanations far within
Stir me to identity, arch-empathy
Flowing in my blood, my specter
Holds me there, weeping incessantly
For the cruelty of the mortal world
Where beasts guard their gold
With the pride and scorn of ruthless tricks
Bereaved of soul, embittered by inhumane love
They crown their shuddering fears
With riches and totalitarian control
The broken love of the centuries lives on
With transgressions of the worst of crimes
The sin of the powerful is that they
Would have us all as slaves
These are the tempests of our times
Whereversoever thou doest go
You are watched, played to be
Pawns in their beds, harlots in their graves.
Wuji Seshat 
simply put, your work is amazing. thank you for all your hard work, thank you
Thank you Kim, it’s a joy to have you come by.
Love that !!