Living dead, roaming bodies,
Souls wandering- seeking peace;
E Choke! Peace is not out there.
Tell me the Joy in painful hustling?
Bear the pain- all you expect is something;
Efforts to bring tomorrow a smile,
Most of all centered on legal tender;
Forget not I say this:
Alert come, desire unsatisfied, hustling increase.
               Living lifeless bodies, I hear you,
Saying, repeating, saying and again repeat:
'One day I will make it',
Pity upon faces looking whence the sky;
'if only they knew' they cried,
That life toil is a toil to the toiler;
For desire lead to toiling,
Camouflage by different edifice;
Agree and disagree, the pen already the blood shed.
Desire birth and fuel hustling,
Desire the Porsche- hustle you must.
But hustle upon hustle no gain saying,
All is hustling.
But I can tell the pain you feel from toiling,
Every single daily pay solving nothing;
It's frustrating I know.
Faces looking from the sky repeat saying,
'if only they knew',
The only factor missing,
If only they knew hustling without Christ is toiling,
If only they knew Jesus gives results,
With no toiling as a prerequisite;
But because they know not,
They all are living dead smiling faces.

Thou still undefiled woman of solitude,
Thou stray-child of tranquility and ****** duration,
War historian, who can relate openly
The milk-spilled more sweetly than the little dame:
What metals and cartridges shaped and haunt sound
Of mortals or divinities, or of both,
On-field or the vale of earth?
What sights are these? Sights a dame loathe?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What shout of chivalry? What wild ecstasy?

History be told: war is dreadful, but those unheard
Are more dreadful; so, furnace heart, be still;
Say no more to my sensual ear, least, endangered
My soul seeking sensual tone:
For the melodies coming beneath the trees,
Ever songs can those trees be bare;
Shy lovers, sharing a willing kiss,
Almost to the winning goal; do not grieve:
Share the bliss, it fade not as she with thee
Forever wilt thy love blossom, if only you yield!

Oh! Happy, gladly thrill that blood not shed,
With back at the past bading goodbye;
And, happy psalmist, unretired,
Melody sang melody anew;
For more happy love; peace we sang,
For ever warm and still; peace we sang,
For surviving babes and vigorous youth; peace we sang:
Passion and love beyond colour and skin
That drained the heart high-sorrowful tone,
Beauty is honest, honest beauty- that is all.

CALL:
Alone in this lofty and deserted place,
Have I patiently and eagerly waited.
Among men each day have I search your face;
Each time have I been disappointed.
Your absence seems to me a punishment;
Your presence I longed for my relieve.

RESPONSE:
"Distance" they always say,
"Make the heart grow fonder."
I know the feeling; got me thinking all day,
How committed we are, even than a lover
But I pray thee, thou shoud tarry a little while
Still have lots of cooking to do

CALL:
What's all these appearing?
Not too nice to hear.
Thy absence is due to cooking?
How sour it sound in the ear.
Should cooking be element to neglect,
And seeing a sister as garbage?

RESPONSE:
Oh! My intent you wrongly explain.
Food preserve the skin from dying;
A waste effort much to my disdain.
My 'FOOD' let lives keep living.
Poetic words like the spiritual,
Very obscure; especially to the carnal.

CALL:
The life clock is ticking so fast,
Trivially the time is still.
And now we are older than the past,
Boom! Death caught us neglecting our will.
I pray thee: bargain not with death;
Because being nature, none can cheat.

RESPONSE:
Like crossword puzzle, can't decifer your line.
Send my memory into an endless journey.
I pray death absence when I dine
Till I reveal the mystery of misery
Knows clock ticks, time's still and death's sure,
My destiny I fulfill; my mission will I complete.

CALL:
Words making the dead jealous
Envious of we yet living
Life's good; Alas! Each steps is dangerous
Only the determined keep on going
But tell me, what Keep you floating?

RESPONSE:
"And I shall fly high
Not that I won't die
But before the die be cast
I would have been above the sky"
My ink is almost dry
Yet, I've got many things to write
But to put things alright,
Am now around: can we see tonight?