A mist withers our eyes From a destructive what is Cloaked by the manipulation of fear The obsessive consumption of greed The yield of inequality Blessing the treacherous snake that is society Protecting the overbearing tower of hierarchy
We are the rising hope and the colossal downfall Of an era so entrenched with fools' promises and wicked minds It is not anymore righting a wrong so much as righting a system of wrong Once a system of good Which should have foretold better times Meant to have put everything in place But has left in its wake A black hole that took everything Right in all of us In everything worth believing, worth hoping
The kind of thoughts and poems that come to me while I'm in the shower
Reason burns the prime leaves in their cinders no solace for one likely answer are a hundred questions where crumbling bones can’t have the will to climb anymore the rungs endless.
Finds beneath feet a resting ground that in glimmer of hope abound a tunnel light an emerging design to craft from chaos a face divine.
Utters a prayer that’s never too late succumbs blissfully to the savior the faith.
I write in order to replay a sad day, relive a happy one; lose or gain, I will win. Or, die with those I lost. Be with them at their last breath. Teach myself that inside, needs are better out in fresher air, where pen meets paper; no matter,what. I am ok.