He was accused as a predator turns out that he was the prey,
A mere bystander but accused as a culprit,
Locked up in the jail 'till his hair turns into grey.
Pleading for justice but it always sway,
Was charge into a crime he didn't commit,
He was accused as a predator turns out that he was the prey.
An innocent life was betrayed,
To be killed or he's the killer, he must admit,
Locked up in the jail 'till his hair turns into grey.
Money is hideous fiends' cue to obey,
To simply close their eyes and tilt their dignity a bit,
He was accused as a predator turns out that he was the prey.
Injustice can be seen anywhere, so cliché,
Impeccable human suffers because of the dimwits,
Locked up in the jail 'till his hair turns into grey.
Truth always prevail they say,
When will it happen? He's sinless, needs to be acquit,
He was accused as a predator turns out that he was the prey,
Locked up in the jail 'till his hair turns to grey.
Blood that oozes, hands that scar
Blows that begun, interminable
A cause known, innocence forgotten
Audible screams, silenced by repetition
Destruction chosen, fear discarded.
Acknowledgment, does none bear
Witnesses seen, sightless to recall
Scabs that remind, require time
Console unwelcome, forgiveness unwarranted
Impulse pursued, a pulse influenced.
Tears dried, by tears shed
A perpetrator fallen to prey
Weakness shown through labored breath
Relent almost tempted by repent
Hope forgone, consciousness, a luxury.
A semblance of sanity restored through agony
A tree uprooted, preventing further anguish
The eyes of a sadist, pleading for an end
Vengeance fed through each severed limb
Victims chosen, collateral, a curse.
A livid corpse staring at the skies
Discovered only to be a headline
Justice imposed by a civilian, chastised by an incompetent system
Whilst condoned by mourners
Violence and peace can not coexist.
Malefactor of our mighty land
Guile do they practice from them, beat
Skank do they drop on our prior rand
Their soul's the people reprimand
Like flies rejecting a rust feet
Malefactor of our mighty land
Drive them from our inunct land
Like Fulani cattle being hit
Skank do they drop on our prior rand
Sweep out before broth turns our hand
Like cobwebs cleaned out of room neat
Malefactor of our mighty land
Their tongue festooned with sweet canard
Embellished with tear thorns their teeth
Skank do they dump on our prior rand
When they continue being rotund
We the citizens turns unfit
Malefactor of our mighty land
Skank do they dump on our prior rand
Many thoughts on this little head of mine.
Consciousness deteriorates over the elusive time.
Losing myself as I ponder this temporary blockage.
Everything thrown off during this power outrage.
This mask I seem to hide behind.
I'm running from something that I refuse to find.
People are so easy to deceive because their eyes captivate an image.
Minds wonder through its pilgrimage.
I smile, but they perceive me to be happy.
If they only knew the truth, judgments will be passed; and I feel crappy.
Pain runs deep within these veins.
I can still feel the inside, gnawing away with its fangs.
Fighting for survival and my sanity.
Though constant and rigid, I stand apart from vanity.
I'm not what people have mold me out to be.
Even if people feel as if they "know me",
sad to say, you (people) never will.