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A young lad once roofless Like lost leaf in storm straggled Divulged the gold of God in bedraggled garbs No flip flop - just ragged paper like note No name of her - just nobody Painted in horrible rainbow Begrimed - oozed spoilt yolk. Who clenched her fists when she was birthed Only the grey hairs with deep gone faded eyes saw her fate & said; The destiny of the world is snoring in her palms She will ripe her bosom in misery - undergo womanhood in mouthful battles Slashing her skins - the God built holes in her tongue Her fleshes will find them - birth ants in them & it'll sting Only if it sting them not to utter again but to burning words war She'll grow war - till the soil with her tongue - reap death when the moon go to bed The tongue is an egg shrouded in skiny tissues They think it to be metal Since she gag bullets She spring jumbles in God's abodes Men of Eden now fox the world like chicken Fuel souls to hotness - disperse the heart of Adam like shattered glasses broken to the anger of the storm What about grown erudites Who knew the death that stole her mother & her fibs She brought herself over their tongues with her once ragged paper like note On carpets, our ears & hearts are no longer filled with divine lines but the whispering of Lucifer If holy books were not inked in her images - walking styles - her memory If she wasn't interred in our communication Why should I reprove the deaf who never heard of her Chronicles Why should I deride the dumb who couldn't speak of her images I will rather join them in silence Paciolo Pen Saint

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

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