Dark Seed Hebrew:

Children of the chosen ones.

Black Pearl

Spectrum Wave Publishing

Copyright@2026

Lost sheep,

Black men,

women,

children

Kindly pick up

Your head and

Your Hebrew feet.

As you walk to

The Creator’s throne,

Bow down before Him.

It is time to

Claim your lineage.

The ones

who were once fooled

With the material,

The tangibles—

That left you in shambles.

Go take a spiritual bath.

Goo head,

Get your mind right, by

Cleansing yourself from your

head down to your toes

, including to purify your soul.

Put your princely robes on.

Let your hair and your skin be natural.

Come in one accord.

It is time to pay homage to the Lord.

It is time to understand

Who you are /

know your wealth

You are the Hebrew

Children of Lion of Juda

You were never a gentile

The Star of David

Son (king Solomon)

Seal of wisdom

We’re drawn from

The sand while we

Held with the sun

at the palm of our hands

The moon landed beneath our

Feet

The creator gave birth

to us in the water.

We are the true chosen ones.

We are the Hebrews.

We were once called Negroes, a name draped over us like a foreign shroud,

Yet we have always been indigenous to the soil of our own spirits.

Now, as we stretch out our tents—

As we pull the pegs from the past and let the canopy catch the new wind—

We no longer stare into the dark pools of Babylon’s nightmare.

We no longer turn our skin inside out, searching for the horrors they tattooed there.

Babylon’s camp is a fading echo, a ghost-tent collapsing in our rearview.

We shake the desert dust from our hems,

And the wind carries it back to the captors’ mouths.