The eaten word even truer Etymon a delicious tuber The words He speaks are spirit and life Woe in the bread of strife Lo! we are not alone Every word meat and potatoes
Rays of light mottle an atmospheric canvas
Varnished with a saddened hue of blue
One requires the other
Alarm clocks chime the birth
Vocalized stretches alert commencement
Rising spines challenge each mind
to acknowledge gratitude
Whether expressed or not
Fate marks an autographed message
which lays the foundation for maturity
And growth...blossoms
A breeze that captivates flesh
A song that whistles its own etymon
Begging for style
Ignoring rhetoric
As street lights decompose
The life before the night before
Exposed.
She never belonged to him anyway.
The skyline explains
The fate that was chosen
Froze.
The night was ours
The morning belongs to no one.
Between us dwells the mighty flame
and host of prayers,
If there is a bond
why then you have bred so many obstacles to come near,
so I conceived you in my heart and soul
but not for the world of filthy races,
I believe if am standing here amidst the pantheon,
at least I’m blessed by my own allegiance.
I don’t need you just when I need you,
but I need you from the etymon of my essence,
Am not in the world of demon alone,
where races has built their expedient thrones,
its true you have got so many faces and so many names,
I don’t score you but bring me any one place,
where I can reach you all just conceiving my faith to God
but not avowing and distinguishing by the races and names.
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