Who are these Disciples of Death pounding their breast claiming the sovereignty of a royal crest
The Sister of Man & Flower of Life, the sun-like lustre, & illuminating life
She reminds me of who I was before I got here, & holds no grudge when I forgot Her, She is always glad again I sought Her
They pretend to be our neighbor while they savor hatred against this matron
Family matter, not-so long as the power they got is backed with a credible shot, & the willingness to use it even should a cancer patient use it, to abuse it, that law, that fundamental catastrophic flaw, the most deplorable fraud religion ever saw
They promised prisons without end, & lived up to the bargain, the vortex dragged millions in, declared a righteous war on sin, fought with violence & lies, just to ensure their win
Too bad your ties not hemp woven your anchor's cord be'ah fraying no one forced you your course was, is, chosen; all that praying all the silence to all the slaying, all the support all the while alert, aware, even now, & still, & still, you refuse to care, but act to distort fact, attack; when will the Truth finally beat you back? !
4/20/15
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem