A million years have went and come!
So many questions left unearth and all the visions left unclaimed.
How can we even bring a claim against this Christianity!
We don't, don't ask me why!
All the horrors in pages of History, this so called religion of faith.
Has no claim to me for I'm am free!
There a time, a season, and a reason far within our eyes.
Canvas come dream with me let me brush your sweet nectar into my
soul.
I travel down that road barren and alone, laughter hidden behind my
back, I hear your snares, your ridicules!
Go dream my dear of your faith, for you were never meant to be, nothing more, nothing less!
Worn out pages of a tree.
She was meant for so much more and that would be me!
Mischievous
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem