Walk Home
In urban life, something is lost
Civilization is a plasticized life
Fashionable term of blindness
Oh, this is a wrong assessment!
We live in a contemporary world!
See lies as truth, and don’t think!
This is the key to modern life!
Drugged and deceived masses
By economic psychology, reined!
They enjoy this life
I am not domesticated
I am not urbanized
Live in nature
Without mass
And walk alone
That’s the life
Love of life
Meet with God
Her body smells of heady perfume with imprints of metaphors on her bruised skin
Adores herself in the vagued mirror
A smile so pleasing yet so harmful
Beads of similes gather to decorate her with a hook to conceal the brutality of her body,
The handcuffs of diamond personifies to the human trait of possessiveness
Accompanied by the golden ring of epithet entangled within her raw hands
Her pierced ears hearken to the ballads of antediluvian times;lips reciting verses of contemporary world
Her fragility lays in the mascara she puts,smudges the kajal with brushes of alliterations
The messy bun incorporates secrets of love and musings of hate alongside a lily holding onto the desires for warmth
Her brittle nails dip into the paint of interjections finishing with a slight coating of delicate red mousse
The cottton dress of yellow now feels accomplished with a hint of storm caressing underneath.
Each morning my pen of imagination keeps me lambasting ideas far right corner of my ink stained that denied me the opportunity to obtain intricate in my heart.
The color does change that represents the rapture of situation to the suitability of humanity to humanism hunting fractured morning
The shape of the egg does alter the truth to prevails the kilometers of shining star like art confound to contemporary world where help glorify the glowing candle
The face of misery mesmerize me with the meter of mixed ideas that never compact with the writer wants
It worthwhile to drink poetry in each morning despite the amount of income earn earnestly pay no bills to bull sound rather pride of authoring lines of my own.
Rushing away from the Devils hair hoisting heave
Rushing to Gods downy laced embrace, searching as astray and bereaved.
Rushing away from your most tenebrous night-frights.
Rushing to your chain mail-cloaked knight.
Rushing away from the skies troubling tears.
Rushing to the sun-singed grassy spears.
Rushing away from the contemporary world atrocities.
Rushing to the falsely glazed generosities.
Rushing away no longer
Only rushing to authorities, tongue untied, and hands unclasped from behind my allegorically lashed back.
Rushing away, wiped from my options, forced to breathlessly quarrel and yack.
God’s new day awaits at the horizon’s gate.
The star of freedom rests amid the dawn.
It has been no less than a 400 year wait,
For a sign this age is about to be born.
No nation can expect to exist forever,
If all of its people are not totally free.
Chaining another’s neck is not clever;
For God’s liberty you will no longer see.
From the slave cabin to the prison cell,
God’s people’s journey has been.
Satan taught the bondman well—
Why America couldn’t possibly win.
Now the bodies of the oppressed demand rights,
And their oppressed souls are looking for peace.
The ballot boxes can offer many delights,
In this present age of political caprice.
The people have decided they want a change,
Since the contemporary world offers a marvelous deal.
And now that we know what God can arrange,
We will not settle for anything not real.
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