Blind prototyped by conflict,
extra force to War, the Weapons class
is so pronounced ~ provoking
as promotion rebels all truth!
And as the mind's condition
knows no source, but correlation
to rank force, so groping downward
the spiral is enforce!
Motion ~ to make a difference
name it "choice" ~ the word invoking vision
not exploit, a manly soul's provision
that espouses!
The seed of hope. . . . for entities new Life!
THE RED/BLACK ROSE
-------------------------------
If I a placid pond sit
Still my shallow grounds
Engulfed within the woods
Submerged and bound
Arrayed with ruby rings
Robed in brunette pearls
What jewel would justly paint
With brush my clearest tint
Wouldst any drown the drink
The tongue calls a quench
Cool and clear as white
Atop the moonlit sky
Or wouldst the treasuries' trees
Reveal arising clips depicting
Darkened depths entrenched
In deep demise
Doth God's glory glide
The ornamented floor
Moving mortal millions
To probe, dip, and dive
Beneath the brittle creek
In buried ocean mines
To touch and taste, then tell
Of seas the sands confine
If raids of floral floods
Could frame the fluid's face
As angels frame the figure
Of heaven's sovereign God
Then pluck the petaled stem
The prototyped rendition
Of red/darkened rose
Which colors my condition
~Poetra Jah~
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