a warrior poet
Reflecting upon thyself
In bed alone visited by someone else
Golden in color niether man nor woman
I was not afraid
With a wave of its hand
Two of me divided and I was transported
To another place
Where all were lost
Lustfull, afflicted; some even possessed
My heart was heavy with echoes
Hopeless is this!
A thunder of words interrupted my doubt
"Yet the worst of these is laughter"
A jester rose from the stone ground
His teeth brilliant white fangs
He whispers to cops and gangs
Judges and jury.
And they scoffed the weak.
Meaning to them was bleak.
Because its power we all seek.
Artform is identified.
And innocence is part of mine.
But also destruction,
Of that jokers function.
The devil is my foe.
And I will not be laid low.
Again. Together;
We win.
                   He won. he lost. We win.