Lights are entities that guides us
Through the hardest
Through the blackest nights
Through the darkness abyss

Rupturing every enmity
Emmiting hope rendering malevolence
Stagnant beliefs alive in flames of miracles
Sparks of faith burnt in hays of hollows
Igniting the ones who lost hope
Believing again,
Living life to the fullest

**Souls returned to their nests,
Finally home.

I thought I was the girl with everything
If only you could stay
Thought I had it all and anything*
But those were lies I've been forced to say
And find myself searching;
Looking at all the things you've been saying to me:
No reasons. No answers.
Why couldn't I see?
                        Do I deceive myself?
Make of things what I want them to be
all through those days
when you were all that meant to me?

Josiah Jack
never uttered a sound
when they dragged him away
from the scene.
when his poor body
was eventually found,
the treatment endured,
had been mean.

With no tongue in his head
they had left him for dead.

With a month
on his back,
he did indeed
contemplate.
Only sin
“he was black”
hence forth
this weary state.

They attacked in the night,
hooded and white.

All in all
he was
lucky
to be
breathing at all,
all because
he was plucky,
all because
he stood tall.

A ***** they said
should lower his head.

Were they hooded
for fear?
Were they hooded
in shame?
Most likely,
once covered,
they could hide
of their name.

If things were so right,
why hide out of sight?

Bravery isn't
a word for the ****,
Cowards,
this word comes to mind.
Bravery comes
when there's only one man,
not one
with ten more stood behind.

I will strike in a pack
with someone watching my back.

Their plan
was to ****,
this man
Josiah Jack.
Perhaps they
get a thrill
when someone
cannot fight back.

They get real loud
when they join with the crowd.

Josiah
knew well
that if he
raised a hand
his kin folk
would feel hell
from this
unruly band.

So he did not fight
but gave in to his plight.

They think
they were hidden
beneath that
white hood,
Josiah's hearing
is sound
and his
memory is good.

So when things are forgot,
he will take of his lot.

That's exactly
what happened,
as they lay
in their bed.
The flames hurled
with fury
the sky
filled with red.

This man barbequed them like fish on a rack
and no one put it down to Josiah Jack.

Sometimes you just need rain,
sadness and a broken heart
in order to write.