The Intercession of the Theotokos or the Protection of Our Most Holy Lady Theotokos and Ever-Virgin Mary, known in Church Slavonic as Pokrov (Покровъ, "protection"), and in Greek as Sképē (Σκέπη), is a feast of the Mother of God celebrated in the Eastern Orthodox and Byzantine Catholic Churches. The feast celebrates the protection afforded the faithful through the intercessions of the Theotokos (Virgin Mary). In the Russian Orthodox Church it is celebrated as the most important solemnity after the Twelve Great Feasts. The feast is commemorated in Eastern Orthodoxy as a whole, but by no means as fervently as it is in Russia, Belarus and Ukraine.
The Slavic word Pokrov, like the Greek Skepê has a complex meaning. First of all, it refers to a cloak or shroud, but it also means protection or intercession. For this reason, the name of the feast is variously translated as the Veil of Our Lady, the Protecting Veil of the Theotokos, the Protection of the Theotokos, or the Intercession of the Theotokos. It is often translated as Feast of the Intercession.
What's happenin brothers and sisters?
Welcome to our time
Afro-Angels hide my weapons in tangles
Black Star Spangled, fragile like hematite with the East oils I write
Despite the lack of sunlight, got my battle boots tight
Now that the government's gone, can't tell your left from your right
Winged assassins laughin while the New World's collapsin
Mother Earth's ribs crashed in, armed with cowries, I'm blastin
As the Earth rebels my womb swells
The birth of Black Magic, savin my people force of habit
You can't find if you ain't never had it
Spiritually crafted black-listed hair-twisted ghetto embargo lifted
Power-shiftin comb-fistin I predict Goddesses you runnin after witches
I kiss my fourteen stitches
Keep all my baby girl wishes
I predict all the oceans turn dry
Not one baby girl will cry as you attempt to grow broccoli from the desert
We will take our pregnant bodies, drink from underground rivers
Wash your face between our legs
While recreating humanity, we will summon yemanja
Search for our fertility, ban all pink and yellow pills
Ban all pink and yellow pills
I predict killing fields of ghetto armpatch anti-Hatch
Hate groups will be bombed
Childbirth becomes outlawed
Always will be branded numbered and logged
All paper money is gone
Confused scholars can interpret our scrolls
Your sky has holes
We know the young is old