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Jun 2016
You will not understand my bible.
Nor my religious ensemble
Because the experience of man
Should not stockade the lamb.
The holiest of holy
Will not coax with their folly;
Instead we laugh,
We laugh at a deity so far off,
Living with guilt.
A primal lapse of living with out.
Attached to the congruent self,
The belligerent nod waging fear over life.
Smearing adverse anxiety.
We negate self love willingly;
So love is not the engine,
A beat down city pigeon,
Feathers plucked by famine,
Limping upon a drudged talon.
Wings clipped by obscurity;
Disheartened, love preys on insecurity.
So we listen
Without reason
Waiting for a faint voice
A hidden angel of observance
Vanquished to your medial
Awaiting resurrection of denial
Denouncing the paved road
Shedding the serpents load
A callous exterior
Boxing the ulterior
When you fathom this ensemble
When you see a flaming candle
A string thwarted in wax
Melting away the complex
And when you fall for the fable
You will understand my bible
A clean page
With each teaching sage
Sive Myeki
Written by
Sive Myeki  South Africa
(South Africa)   
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