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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Fragment of tears, elements of sorrow. This is the wild assumption that pushes blood to a glandful tattered branch of the heart. You are the lost coin been looked for, I am the lost sheep of my father, They are the tears hanging on the eyes of the sky. Yesterday, our fathers told tales that made eyes bleed, Tears of this worthless world was one of their theme. We held our hearts together to fight history because all we were and wanted to be remain with history... We remembered this pain that made us wept, We remembered clusters of agony raging in us. It seems like our hearts would sin again but we cried, we can not be ruled by forest of loafers that caused us the kingdom and remain tears free. This is the tears the sun brought home: Of childbirth, we must write on turtle's hand, of death of a loved one, we must sing a dirge, of mourners in the field of tears; tribute must come, of child's labour, motherhood is graced. These are the cockrel elements birthing tears, elements seen in the chameleon rising and falling of the air from our heartbeats... They are the consumers of our sanity in the dark preceeding synthesis facts of our punctured silence. Whether it is in the infiltration of our insanity or towards the vegetation of our broken souls, we are born. We've come to stay with it as part of us. Building a biospheric hearts for the boys of tomorrow, this is the disruption of nature's ancestral roots... These are the substance that made up those element, the kleptomaniac fingers that rob off our joy. We are the laddles of hope, a shapeful generation of stars, We will not lie in unkindness to keep our fortune in blindness. We shall arise and tell Justice of delay because righteousness is about to decay. We will move down to the city and make them shake off pity, We will make good seeming to stop random tears. ©John Chizoba Vincent Cam'god
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