Here we are,
Living within our horizon,
Oblivious of the beyond things,
Images startling to the senses;

And opportunity meets resources,
Things fall into place,
Aboard the wings an eagle,
Off to see the things beyond.

There is one one like my lover to me,
No matter what people say,
I have chosen her as my woman to be,
And stand by her everyday and in  every way.

At what cost, your Excellency?
What toll has your triumph taken?
Your glory at the expense of lives,
Dancing over a sea of blood.

Under a petty ruse,
Cloaked in plain sight,
Not well hidden,
A sanctimonious deceiver;

Sanctioned by incumbency,
Clever use of state resources,
Bending the rules in favour,
Open abuse of executive latitude;

But do the people care?
Too impoverished to mind,
Would readily be had,
Even for a few grains benevolence.

This lonely bush,
Sticking around the corner,
It's love life needs no push,
For no one will call it brother.

She picks up and smashes my old cell phone,
Ears ***** at every text and ringing tone,
Naturally drawn to ones and zeros,
And excited by every four-gee and byte stream combos.

Many moons of dust and drought,
Banished by refreshing rushes,
Cool cataracts cascading, crashing,
Monsoon melodies waking winged *******.

The corruption of worldly living,
On this campus that we live in,
Falsehoods in large measures thriving,
A haven for demons to thrive in;

Where religion has failed,
For those who practise such,
The lack of it has helped much,
On angels wings to safety sailed;

The mystery can never be unravelled,
Though open for everyone to marvel,
Opaque even in the clearest marble,
Blind to the widest travelled;

The kingdom is for the childlike truly,
The little ones unspolled by immorality,
Unaware of the smallest bit of hypocrisy,
Certainly not for the decadent and unruly;

Where several lost precious lives,
A child's in ways most baffling lives,
Wherefore the soul that sins dies,
Away from nether gloom, alive the innocent lives.

Four years isn't eternity,
For the people of this besieged city,
Be brave, make your hearts strong,
It is true, the heavens cannot be wrong.

Beaneath the rubble of King's landing,
Lay the ambitions of a queen,
Burned by the unburnt,
She flew in fiery rage.

A group of morons,
Weilding all sorts,
Chased the lot,
Men, women, old ones;

Threatened blood if they thumbed,
Even killed a few to make true,
Burned their timid decisions,
And dared any opposition;

Cowered into submission,
They handed over their sovereignty,
Resigned to generational servitude,
And an unending cyclical incompetence.

I have grown love out of nothing,
Then watched it die painfully,
Love has been offered me truthfully,
But I never thought 'twas anything worth falling in.

A quick witted confrontation,
May present fast reactions,
But calculated, measured responses,
Far accomplish evident results the whole world sees.

Government, led by animals,
Government, of animals,
Government, for animals,
Government, sadly unfit for animals.

In the pursuit of nothing lost,
What then can be found?
But what indeed comes around,
Is a love story painfully gone bust!

He just rolled out a poorly prepared script,
ingFailed attempt at ignite hope in anyone,
Streaming his **** and bull story in perpetual darkness,
Simply wasted megabytes of cheerless nonsense.

This part of the world,
And it's starchy ways,
Everything fattens,
Very heart unfriendly.

If goodly people were,
To turn to evil work,
Then nothing ought to stand,
In the way of evil lending to good.

Craaaaaaaaash! And whaam!
Everything goes ham!
But after the cast comes off,
It's like riding the biggest surf.

So many brilliant idiots,
In the hand of one fool,
They drive his oppressive chariots,
And become his hunger tool.

Hot love melted my heart,
Like a knife you ran through,
But you were never true,
Dressed in white, yet wore a black hat.

Everywhere, hiding in plain view,
Gestures, mannerisms or whatnot,
Clandestine movements, shapeshifters, power women,
Cloaks and mufflers, gentlemen, even rappers.

I lied, every time,
I mentioned some words,
To you, a constant rhyme,
They're true, two edged swords.

Sticky night, power out,
Always been that way,
But during moments of brightness,
Children cannot help but shout!

Heaven, it's raining gifts!
Tired after working all shifts,
Dog, will do it in lifts,
Never stalling between gearshifts.

Can't wait to be born,
Can't wait to crawl,
Can't wait to brawl,
Can't wait to return.

Your time has come to its natural end,
Your course has steered itself silly,
Your tongue is disconnected from reality,
Your infamous time among the living will roll into oblivion.

Burdened by the gluttony of pudgy fingered politicians,
And their endless breaking of putrefying wind,
She heaved a huge and resounding sigh, very loudly,
And, with unbounding love, laid down the troublesome load.

Yes nothing,
Yes high blood pressure,
Yes breakups,
Yes confidence out the window.

Nothing's right with this one,
Everything's wrong, begone!
That day I walked the wrong turn,
With you, I knew that I would burn!

How utterly lacking in mind,
Truly missing the meat of the matter,
Bounced around by emperors of a stupid kind,
Failing to make the lives of subjects any better;

Bickering over nothing,
The critters in power chew up everything,
Turning bare buttocks to the people,
Dripping honey from foul mouths;

When will the people get a living wage?
Because you wage war against the living,
Paying just enough to go and die,
Senseless reprobates, enoying others' agonies;

But keep watch! O ye emperors!
For the day of reckoning cometh,
When your billions cannot save you,
From the same dish you served the oppressed.

She actually screamed, "yyyyytttt!"
Half drowsy, in sweaty birthday suit,
I'd been fanning her through the night,
In our terribly hot and breezeless suite.

If only thine resolve woult split this hackneyed arrangement,
Of decades bound up in  insidious impoverishment,
Cornered to loud silences behind qwerty lines,
Only praying for the day of pleasant places along scentous pines.

Constantly prodding, digging without remorse,
Ripped of all diginifying attributes, and without recourse,
Taking, relentlessly pouring, your sickening abomination,
Laid bare, broken, in a state of defiled contamination.

Are we there yet?
One foot from the brink?
Are our backs flush against the wall?
Can we break through or break out?

That geriatric living in the century before this one,
Finds pleasure in shooting off outside the shores,
Shameless old fleabag junkeetting without remorse,
Playing the script of unrepentant fools;

But herein lay the problem,
Because we are coloured by his senselessness,
Made to appear hapless, even hopeless,
At the beck and call of any and every imperial world power;

Give us back our dear mother,
Trapped in the misfortune of your unfortunate marriage,
We will rescue she who gave us ****,
From your ******, malevolent indifference.

The People of State with fettered willpower,
Can only exert authority on the lowly and weak,
Deriving power by force,
And wailing by right of entitlement.

To emerge victorious,
In the face of unrelenting adversity,
One need only constantly,
Continue to conquer self.

Each day I awake to a heart full of affection,
But the sun sets on my bitter countenance,
Because you embrace me with thornful coldness,
And cut me deeply with your loud silence.

There's no time than now,
That this country needs a rebirth,
All of the old must die,
To give life to a new beginning;

We just cannot continue like this,
Those dinosaurs have caused enough harm,
They've destroyed well enough,
Turned a bad situation irreversibly worse;

Thus a decaying of all the old ways,
An accelerated putting to death,
All religious bigoted acts of stupidity,
Tribal or ethnic jingoistic anomie;

A nation is coloured by its leader,
Unfortunate if such were defined,
By the idiosyncrasies of religious,
Or backward ethnosocial beliefs;

We are were we are,
Where we're not well,
Wherein we were,
Whereas were we where;

Thus it makes sense to gather,
The lot of these analogue invertebrates,
Offer them a life in exile somewhere,
Where the sun will never shine.

Holding the bundle of joy,
Swaddled in my mother's wrapper,
Only one though came to mind,
Father of a daughter, me? Goodness!

Beggars they are, huddled by the guardrail,
As headlamps make out their shriveled forms,
They have never known love, less brail,
Their fate is one of many norms;

Day and night they are led by children,
Life's gifts wallowing in misery and abandonment,
Left to uncertain fate, will never know a pen,
These ones daily embrace scorn and raging disappointment;

So the six blind women,
All from the north,
Summarise our homegrown problem,
Everything we are, everything we are not.

On either side of backward mountain,
Lay two valleys impeding any kind of success,
On this side the people of state are too hungry and angry,
The oppressors of state are gluttons, too satisfied to lift a finger on the other side.

So, wha' if I got dark pigments,
And my melanin be poppin'?
Hey, 'taint yo' business if my ancestors swung from branches,
Remember, they got bruised and violated, tending yo' **** ranches.

But who will bell this monstrous bush cat,
Gorged on the sweats of the lowly trodden,
Whiskers curled in the till of a million poorly afflicted,
And claws on the jugular of the southern dark lady?

Our hearts have been broken,
And many spirits shattered,
It handed them a token,
Yes, we will take this hard.

There's nothing good found,
In the one different from the rest,
Ready to head west,
While others look north;

Of a different shade,
And not to be confined,
To the averageness of existing,
Without actually living, fully.

Chasing tattoos, dreadlocks and bling,
These ones don't know a thing!
They take life at the pull!
Of a trigger meant to protect all!

Dregs of the force, idiotic,
Drunken, high on narcotic,
Dressing inordinately, oozing,
Dreadfully unamusing,

They create a ****** mess,
Harbingers of sadness,
Candidates of the hottest parts of hell,
Deserving, one and all, the same horror they constantly sell.

Bread seeking stomachs,
Half conmen, half charlatans,
Gluttonous holes in round faces
They are the gods of men;

Monarchs in the temple of deception,
Riding on the backs of simpletons,
Rasing the dead from the living,
Tormenting treasuries out of empty purses;

Jerry curled hair and fancy suits,
Luxury boats and four wheeled drives,
Mansions in reserved areas,
Super jets customised for tireless pleasure;

They ***** false altars,
Imprison the weak,
And confound wisdom,
With diabolical manipulation;

Many generations fettered,
By spiritual delusions,
Will take many more,
To free the much incarcerated.

On this dark road,
Would you ride with me?
Even if fears raised questions,
Would your confidence shut them up?