How heavy the load he carried seem to be, it weighed him down. The more he tried to get rid of it, the more he just couldn’t let it go. Like a parasite scourging across an under-developed country no remedy seemed to be in sight. As if it had latched onto him and was feeding off his most vital organs. He could hardly breathe at times. His vision was blurred in more ways than one. His friends and family avoided him as to not have to deal with the side-effects or help him in his dire straights. If only he could find a cure then maybe this thing wouldn’t be feeding off of his morality. Even his fiance had a hard time with him because the plague of love had him in its fiery grasp, he knew he was in trouble the more he stayed this way but how could he love to hate love?
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The man fiddled with the muzzle as his young progany look in awe, eyes filled with esteem. The wonder the boy felt was astounding. He imagined how he could live up to his father’s legacy, his fantasy running wild while doting over that very same legacy his father unwittingly plastered into his developing thoughts. Saying to himself “One day dad, I’m going to make you proud of me.” The boy looked on with tailored glee and appeal.
Colorful bunch of fallopian tubes being
Handed to the world for consummation As I looked upon the mosque silhouette
As dusk set in, an image of a satyr overcasted The beautiful shape of the holy places stepping Into my sightline merely to tarnish my views Ready Aim Fire, the trigger pulled
Shots blazing the chamber doesn’t get to cool I duck I dodge I fend for my life I have no weapons to stage a fight It’s a coup, I’m being overthrown Hiding in my depths, surrounded but still alone No safe guard to ensure my protection The man I face has a familiar reflection Once my friend now my foe How could he stoop so low. He’s called me out I refuse to engage my brother but the half Of my other I & the same Hell we share a mother I want to change & just be serene Calm & peace Yet he’s attacking my spiritual decree I pay homage so I can maintain my composure One false move can lead to his full exposure Violence, animosity, hatred boiling to the top I am who I am not, only the Lord Can stop this blackness of this kettle’s pot |
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