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May 2015
050515

The shower held me in wrestle
With the waterfall of grace
I saw my hair strands tiptoeing
As if the King's blood
Rejuvenates my entity.

I was oppressed and seared
By the world's shampoo of pain,
And a pinch of branded conditioner
Deceiving my hispanic lifestyle.

I wore no make up nor my fave mascara
And never have I tried to fake my lashes
But sometimes, my clamor becomes so fraud
I was so ashamed with my martyr side
I no longer know myself.

My eyes speaks the flames of my soul
It keeps dashing those pixelized scenes
And all I ever wanted was to be consumed
That ashes will be my destination
It's pretty inhumane *
To have a huge termination.

Life in it's middle
Was the slash-and-burn portion
At first, *I took few steps

In order to learn faith by heart.

Then later on,
I got blundered and fluffed
But the Small Voice within me
Has pacified the other voices.

I never meant to suffer like this
I found my blind spot,
Yes, I did search it
Coz if not, never will I know
That He can unwrap me
From the warpage
Of real aesthetics with purpose.

It's not me at all,
But it should not me neither,
I was caumoflaged by grace.

And no matter how deep the cuts are,
No matter how drained my blood is,
I will still choose persistence
And even the world's deadliest weapon,
Those tunnels of disgrace
Shall no longer breakpass my *foundation.
The Poetic Architect
Written by
The Poetic Architect  F/PPC Palawan, Philippines
(F/PPC Palawan, Philippines)   
620
     ryn, --- and The Poetic Architect
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