Breathless Prose

Peace- 1. Freedom from disturbance; tranquility; 2. A state or period in which there is no war or war has ended "I can't breathe!"- George Floyd Yet, his "peace" came when his body was no longer disturbed from asphyxiation; his peace came from a judgment passed down as a mistake in God's creation; but onward we cry for "peace" Onward we fight for justice for a man we all assumed couldn't breathe for nine minutes; truth reveals, his color at birth was his breathless life sentence; and whilst we still "breathe," here we are fighting for "peace" He spent his last moments with us all; his death so rapidly reported and televised; we heard his voice, dared say his name and watched his soul leave his eyes; eyes that bear no indication of race; eyes we all adorn no matter the species or color of face; eyes we all watched arrive to a state of "peace" After seeing this, the question is how can anyone breathe? How can anyone not question the sanity of humanity or if slavery was just postponed and kept handy for the day comfortably breathing demons could hide behind badges; still at the knowledge of this, the expected response is still an aim towards "peace" Tell me you could kneel to take a life away with the same knees you bend to pray with your children before guiltlessly tucking them away; and if you can, tell me why that makes you any more worthy than his breath that was taken away simply because of his race; tell me this is your representation of "peace" With that knowledge, I will assure you one thing: what you breathe is hatred for natural queens and kings; and before trading my immortal soul and royal birthright just for a little of your air to "breathe," I'd rather lie down with George those last nine minutes because we still can't breathe