After defecating
no tissue to wipe
our buttocks
no dry leaves to clean
our hands
no water to wash our
body
the government promised
the tissue

But their promise is christ
second coming
thousand years elapse
no sign of fullfilment
flies feast on our feaces
gurnor chased away

The air is Carbon (iv) Oxide
feaces taint it
when is the true Messaiah
coming?
Perhaps! God is the answer
the mother hen will protect
her children against the hawk

At dawn
the dogs swallowed
our feaces,leaked our hands
The answer is God

Under the watchful stares of the midnight skies
walking down the lonesome road in company of the stars
nOBODY knows my fears like my tears
we share a common bond formed not with loyalty
but we blend through blood and scars
our darkness is our solidarity
The night as our lover intimacy is our cover
my mind my weapon i spill blood like ink on paper
i stain my pain my intoxication is my inhaler
In fantasy i thrive like a commoner
Clothed in passionate desires
i am engaged to obsession my desire is my messaiah
drawn to oblivion i am lost in lust
none of the seraphs
nor the extraterrestrials
is as adavnaced not even technology
to decipher and reveal the unseen
my mind is a weapon and its loaded with beautiful sins