I am the voice of the wind from the ether space
Princess of Akash, daughter of the Black Race.
I am also the tree outside your window
freedomless, it seems, trapped in the winter snow;
unmoveable I be
and if you saw me (with other eyes) you'd know
where in life to flow.
They say groundedness is key
in finding where at to be,
but if you did not know
of my sorrow:
I am formless in the mind of the winter itself
no definition in its eyes, an almost lifeless welp.
I am the one whose leaves are indeed the Afro,
but how can I grow? while in this snow?