Upon her he bestowed songs of love
A voice as beautiful as the spirit of the one who created her
Chords reciting his marvels from a gaping mouth
On my knees telling him how I love him
For showing me a love that I did not deserve
My heart knowing that he has led me to you,
So that I can be closer to him
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 7:16 AM UTC
You barricade yourself behind a different smile everyday
A facade to convince them that you know only a life of happiness
My heart finds itself on its knees begging to catch a glimpse what it is you hide
Wondering if ever I will lay eyes on the trail that leads back to your heart
Someone having branded marks on a painite embellished by heaven
Every nerve in my body yearning tell you that in the depth of the Titanic I would have been your life jacket
I want to know when you are hurting
I want to know when you find yourself in solitary confinement
Your mind riddled with fear and eyes drowning in tears
I want to know!!
And finally when I am certain I know
I will let the tight embrace of my heart keep you warm and safe
Unable to unstrap yourself from its affection, I will softly whisper in your ear
And remind you that all of my being loves you,
And that all of my heart is yours
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 4:43 AM UTC
I stand here in the shadows
Protected by a white veil already ridden with fear
Watching as my own people are culled in the abattoir they called home
By men who call themselves my brothers
Yet they find fulfilment and contentment in killing one of their own
For not being one of their own
Yet with each day that passes our battle is the same
Scars left by the very veil that now shields me
I too had begun to call this land home
My heart feels very stab inflicted on my people
Every image indented into my mind widening the wound
My vocabulary incapacitated at the feeling of betrayal
Unsure of who I can now call my brother
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 8:28 PM UTC
It is an era that need be forgotten, yet not be forgotten
Isolated by the rest of humanity for forsaking humanity,
The lives of no mere mortals were sacrificed on the promise of freedom,
While in some town couped up by hate, anger and despair
Families were left an unsolvable puzzle, in infinite pieces
It was an era that they told us was over,
And yet in a trench somewhere near the tip of a continent
Men whose bodies are covered by a dark pigment no different from mine,
Different to that of the man commanding them to dig deeper,
Whose behaviour and attitude seems no different to that of his father,
And his father, and his father’s father, and their forefathers
On whose behest a mark on a people was heavily branded
A sense of nostalgia overwhelms my body
And so while I walk past these men working in the trenches
I look upon them with a face contorted by disgust
Not toward them nor the pale skinned man who dictates their every movement
It is towards those of the same pigment as the men in these very trenches
Whose stomachs have been fattened by the labour of these very men
Whose every lie they have forced them to believe
With the talk of an era that still instills fear and instigates hate
Misdirected towards still figures who have as much life in them as the men they honour
It is an era that is still not yet over
Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 2:08 PM UTC