Set your aim well
narrow your eyes to see
where hatreds dwell.

It's everywhere in the land
with guns in our hand
we are fighting a war
brother against brother
a battle without cessation
nation against nation
settle with the bullet
more right is which faith
decide with gunfire
which race is placed higher
for centuries the same story
battles make bulk history.

Races raged cities burned
but we never learn
to build one world city
one humanity
only aim further well
narrow our eyes to see
where differences dwell.

My great grandmother,
passed away 10 years ago,
but last night,
she stood at my bedside.
She told me the story,
of the beautiful butterfly,
who feared to fly.  
She told me,
this butterfly was beautiful,
much more than the rest.
Her wings shone of gold,
with a deep silver hue.
She was so beautiful,
but she always wept.
She feared,
her wings were broken.
Then came the day,
when she looked
towards the sky,
only to see the
rest of the butterflies
begin to fly.
That's when she realized,
now was her time.
She stretched out her wings,
and leapt off the vine.
She fluttered her wings,
and was lost to the sky.
She had faith in herself,
and her wings
carried her just fine.

It was half past nine,
as I searched for a sign,
hoping that someday
you would become mine.
I gazed at the skyline,
and prayed for the divine,
to send you a countersign
that would detonate the mine.
I'm hoping these words
creep up your spine,
and rest lightly upon
your loving mind.
My darling,
believe me when
I speak these lines,
you are as fine,
as dandelion wine.

Around me is dying another day
silently falling in surge of emotion
in the mournful dirge of the dusk
dropping on the black drongo
flying home in dream of dawn
beneath the first star of twilight
blushing in the kiss of sky
heralding another earth evening
celebrating death in the dire need of
resuscitating life.