You can explain trigonometry to a zebra,
You can blab till blue in the cheeks,
But that doesn’t at all determine,
Whether a zebra will learn trigonometry.

A piece of irony:
We expect Zebras to be black and white,
Because their appearance says so,
But what about their feelings,
Who they are as Zebras?

Luscious, rare, and totally majestic,
But most of all,
Slept on…
Like most beautiful things, a pity indeed,
But that’s nature.

You find yourself mesmerized by them,
Yet you never truly grasp their beauty.
I ponder one small thought:
What do we really know about zebras?

We know what we are told,
We know what we see,
We know what we read,
But somehow,
These zebras,
They just… unapologetically exist,
In ways that never remain consistent.

Lions hunt zebras,
and rip them a part,
Because lions assume that these zebras,
Are merely the inferior species,
Ready to be preyed upon,
Simply because they’re less dominant,
In a world of carnivorous predators.

I was molded by his own hand
sculpted to perfection and eager to please
who else other than my husband
for without Adam, there is no Eve

at least, that was before he slithered into our perfect life
pounding our perfect garden into the ground with his slick feet
conniving and a brute,
he convinced me to take a bite
and share my fruit with man
for what is mine is his
my knowledge is his

I am his

together we ate
snacking and licking our fingers with glee
wiping the secretions of the fruit of mankind
against the tree we tore it from

until our Paradise's pastures declined
the wildflowers overtrodded with weeds
the singing waterfall vanished
only to be replaced by an evil, magmatic spout

and our tree,
our once bountiful, glorious, fruitful tree
decayed from the inside out

Adam's burning glare rotted my fruit and my seeds
until they and I dropped to the burning embers on the ground
like nicks off of a pebble that was thrown too hard
or like hairs from the back of a matted mother cat
that has spent far too many heatless winters hunting
for a different life,
for any life

with no more than a curse from Him,
I became the failed experiment of humanity
tossed into God's own graveyard
left to rot with my stolen seed

Purity purity
Mighty king mighty King
When the love is gone, you are all l need
When the hope is lost you are all l see
cleanse me so l succeed
With Your hand though l know l will be.

I always run out of words
Whenever I try to describe your beauty,
Your eyes are so pure that I always got lost in it,
Your smile is so beautiful that I could dive in,
You are so handsome and beautiful like greek god,
You are so special and kind,
If I ever try to put you together in words then I can write thousands of love books,
Your brave soul always protects me from evil,
There is no end of your beauty,
And there are no boundaries to our love,
I love you a lot and will love you forever,
You are only the reasons bcoz of whom I got to know what's the love is,
Thanks for being in my life and loving me a lot and making my life worth living,
You are the best thing ever happened to me.

The chalky Cliffs of Dover crumble in my fist.
Tucked away neatly in my pocket.
I have the power to become a person completely in control.
The tension seething in my chest no longer.
All I need is the key.
A simple motion not readily accepted by the masses.
'Tis not we who wait for the dust to settle but for the dust to settle we.
The reuptake of life hidden but always near.
We care not for the hands that pass the life from person to person.
For they could be from the grimiest of grim and still our hands are cupped for their foul crooked benevolence.
We are gods and what is purity without the soot and **** and **** to define it.
Synthetic courage and emotional restraint what more could the people want.
Only a few care for the real me, the anxiety, the truth.
Why pander the rest when I have complete control within a plastic seal, tucked neatly in my pocket.

Purity

Clear water without a hint of discoloring
Free from anything however small floating inside
What is the purity of your kindness
Can goodness be tainted?
Although the outcome is wholesome
Do motivations lessen the good of goodness?

Selfish "Good"

How good is goodness
If goodness is conditional?
If all the good I ever do
Is to get something back
If I neglect those with nothing to offer
And bargain with those who'll do anything for help?
A desperate cry to my ears sounds the same
As coins clinking while they form a pile
As the shuffling of bills
With every "good" deed
My heart races as the weight of debts owed to me grows

Obligatory Goodness

When the pure water of a good act
Is used to put out eternal fire
Done not because I love you
But to appease my angry master
Under threat of hell, how can my motivation remain pure?
If good people is what the master wants
Why even muddy the waters with goodness under threat?
Unless it's not about good people
But about having people that can be controlled
Monopolizing on man's fear of the unknown
To create slaves that will shackle themselves
For the illusion of safety
And to be free of the burden of thinking

The Good Face

How good are good acts
Done merely to preserve an image?
To stay in people's good favors?
To be praised for your selflessness?
Like the good that asks for something in return
And the one that comes from fear
If being good was not rewarded
Would you still seek it out?
You can't help if people praise you
For doing what anyone should
But you can help if that's what drives you
If you save all your goodness for the spotlight

For Goodness Sake

I saw you hurting
Your face was not that of a stranger's
Because although I've never met you
I know you.
You're me, if all our circumstances switched
I'm just as human as you
There are no main characters here
It only feels that way because ours are the only thoughts we hear
But you're no different than me.
We're all only people
But I have the ability to help
And so I will.
I don't need to be seen
I don't need you to repay me
I'm not afraid of any religion's hells
I just have compassion for you, fellow human.
Unconditional love is the heart of pure goodness
The heart of goodness for goodness sake.

The purity must be cast aside to see God equal in all people.
For all are unified in station and wealth in rank before God, none more righteous nor more rich than another.
In this case God enriches all of us in our lack and withholds in our fortune.
For none is self-sufficient without Him.
Purity is more about the strength of desire.
It is easy to remain pure when its fires are not enflamed.
What does purity and righteousness hold?
It can only be detachment from the world.
The "world" meaning that which takes us from our Lord.
Is it right to delight in purity?
It seems so empty in a world with so few single women my age that doesn't have kids nor does drugs.
I actually don't even know one. Really.
I'm pure for myself then only?
To delight in my righteousness to only belittle the feeble?
To stand as a noble eunich with the ****** 40 & 50 somethings?
If I'm pure, I have no home in the dust.
I have no friend to share in purity.
Purity is outward.
How do I perceive reality with outward orientation?
Pure ways become my mantra.
Not just chaste eyes, but a pure body.
I become enslaved to worship my own body.
My outer body has no significance to me.
I smoke cigarettes to fight my eyes from transfixing on it.
I postpone workouts until not my body but my energy is in need of vitality.
I tattoo my skin to break the idol of the body.

And Again I am left alone
Into the darkness of unknown thoughts
My mind processes to get me a  throne
Set me to the  crown that had Hall of shows
Purity , Pressure and Post gets to my notes
All I have done is made me believe what is known
Neutrality, Morality and curiosity are my favourite wrong projections
All that I understand is fed into me to be a variation

The vulnerability of my life is thrown into the shadows
My cloud of loneliness is  heavily raining
Nobody is here to save me from drowning
Ignorance and unloved are major role shows
Nobody gets me but want to go bold
The only thing I hate now is me that has no goals.