VERSE 1 Kembé, I hold this grief like a drum Not to silence, not to run But to feel it hum beneath my skin Like the hands of my grandmothers pulling me in They braided prayers in my hair Taught me how to cry without despair Red was never just for rage or death It was the color of love that hadn’t left CHORUS So hold me in red, I do not burn This ache is the flame in which I return From silence to pulse, from wound to flame I remember my name, without speaking my name Grief is a rhythm, not a curse A drumbeat echo, a buried verse So Kembé… Kembé… don’t let it fall This red is the bloodline that sings through us all VERSE 2 Water carried me from shore to shore Salt of mothers, ache of war But even the river could not drown The memory of my crown They tried to write me out of time But my pulse is the oldest rhyme I don’t wear chains—I wear songs I don’t break—I belong BRIDGE There is breath beneath the red Where the unlived stories are fed Where the women who never spoke Now rise in each word I invoke This isn’t just my healing song It’s the sound of what’s been strong all along Not mine alone, not lost, not dead It’s the rhythm of all we never said CHORUS (repeat) So hold me in red, I do not burn This ache is the flame in which I return From silence to pulse, from wound to flame I remember my name, without speaking my name Grief is a rhythm, not a curse A drumbeat echo, a buried verse So Kembé… Kembé… don’t let it fall This red is the bloodline that sings through us all CLOSING WHISPER I rise in rhythm… in blood… in my name. I rise in rhythm… in yours… all the same.
