Am I the son or the man?
An abomination to the non-believers,
So I switch to my spiritual mode
Casting veils on my foes,
Its a battle of self love
Such is modern times,
Losing self in the process-
Pressing self destruct,
The red button looking shiny:
"uh How tempting"....!
My poetry sounds like written verses:
The irony, always in first person
So I sound direct to my readers!
Fusing words with thoughts
Like matter entwining with gravity,
The magical world:
Making sure that I capture the work;
The great ingredients!
From potions to spells, chants and invocations
but a weirdo to my classmates:
"Curse those heathens cause they love- hating"
Man its strange
And strange just got stranger
The chronicles of a minor
To a major, no layers just layouts,
Cosmic forces interrupting my presence
So I document in verses-
From being sentenced to writing sentences,
A scholar with a ship so I'm shipping-
My dreams across the seven seas,
Gotta find Atlantis: my lost dreams.
Copyright © Piercing Words | Year Posted 2019