Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
B Alias Jun 2018
Now every strangers and then,
They have a knife behind their back,
Lose or rich they are a man in disguise,
A hat and a coat and the unicorn,
They are running a while in papers,
Sleep in a porch of drainfall,
A tuna served in a can of expiry,
Break-fast like a man with no faith,
A faith of freedom on human being,
Feelings and voices kept as a weapon,
You no no tell me that,
A wrong due to righteous,
If you had a knife before and after,
Of night that fall sombre under the silver moon.
B Alias Oct 2017
Me
the beat of my heart
is the deed that i did
those sins that i made
is underneath my skins
the air spilled in my lungs
is the filthiest in riches
the iron smell run my blood
is the rustiest in bleached
the ideas that i have
is the brain that i latched

— The End —