Having heard musings and songs
As sung from the troubled notes
Plus corresponding vocals
Singing of a better place.
Tears swim along the tear-glands
To confluence with emotions
Breeding so-pathetic blues
Translating displeasured looks.
Despaired by this ‘better place’
And the way it’s cursed by words
From the orifice of lords
Who encourage awful odds
Micheal meant to heal the world
But his health could not allow;
The earth within his good heart
Constricted by strangled dreams
He had been dead and long gone
Since the time he peeled his skins
For his nose was thus too wide
To dine with the pointed ones.
Nelson too took fearless steps
Fighting his way to freedom
But this freedom wore its doom
When abused by Sodomy.
Lincoln meant to liberate slaves
From the shackles they demand,
In the manners they imbibed
The ills and wills of their lords.
Before and after these men
Power yielded treacherous forms
Only to bequeath these genes
Onto offsprings; countless times.
Who dare look into the eyes
Of a law which never sees
When the judges’ hands are tied
Their discretion fail to thrust.
Loot, steal and squander billions
Bill some thousands to be bailed,
In so far as you can sit
Among those spelling the codes.
This is not the case with those
Who, out of their penury,
Are forced by dim circumstance
To make a means out-of-law.
What role do I stand to play
In the obscene scenes as seen
Like the men who married men
And ladies who courted same?
Barter your distinct organs
To achieve your gender-dreams
Becomes order of the day:
Ask Bruce or his ‘Catilyn’.
Each religion turns its back
Onto each other to please
A God which cannot be pleased
By the caprices of lots.
Slithering innocent throats
Shelling displaced citizens,
Even homes of refugees
On the scene of martyrdom.
Every uttered speech as meant
To make a change, and repent
From all bashful, erring deeds
Fades away with time, and dies.
Hopeless and hapless we are
In a world of class conflict.
The haves are the winning team
Have-nots cannot beat but join.
Perhaps, this is the heaven
Altered by their handiwork
How better to make this earth
Than what it has come to be?
Labyrinth of cursed victims
Devoured by the jaws of time
For the time is on the verge
Of an end ready to start.
© 2015
All Rights Reserved


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