the pen and the paper are lovers
the pen whispers and the paper remembers
the paper wants to forget

The pen traces the forbidden heart  
the paper and the pen are lovers

there are traces of you all over me - tells the paper to the pen
How do you know what is to love somebody the way I love you?

and I am still working on this ... any suggestions?

I can hear your spirit calling my name
The clay of my land invoking my name
My body is broken and my soul is gone

My principe Azteca resurrect from the dead
Heal my wounds to fight again
I only have my arrow and my bow
And like a hunter I will rescue my soul

Mi principe Azteca white men have come from a foreign land
They murdered our sisters and sons –believing we have no souls

They took our land
They took our gold
They took our freedom
Destroyed our souls in the altar of our gods

My principe Azteca kiss me with your lips of immortality
And with my bow and arrow i will aim straight to their hearts
becuase oh God they deserve to die

My principe Azteca sacrifice my heart
But please don’t let them suffer anymore
Let me rescue their souls.

Sorry    mother,
Haven't written much.

Too busy putting
    poetry and syllables
into overseas and livables.