Dennis Mzwakhe Pitso

Wall painted with confusion
In the mist of fun, I senselessly tornished my vision
Actions building a cage of night-terror
Dreams escaped with a view that sleeping is a chronic error
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Fed with a prescription of evil thoughts
Breeded an angel with demonic deeds
Wrapped with blind ambitions, she harvests stones as seeds
Truth untold if not ears bleeds
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I became blind to the rear view of beauty
But my eyes captured a queen in the mist of darkness
As I gazed, my gist raced, my thoughts paced and my figure chased
Her beauty so divine that the daughter of Zues can't help but loath
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Life delivering resemblance of the past like a deja-vu
Taste sour like a lemonade because you don't choose your fate
Heaven a promise but we forgot it has a gate
Even God's approval won't accommodate sinners like me
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Dear Non-believer
Reconcile if this signifies as a break-up; I ink this intensity as a wake up
You left me delicate with your love-fever
So here I was craving for your affection
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On an ancient stone we sketched dreams upon faded dreams
Sentiment rigid like a figure-eight knot
Zeal mystified and perception rectified on the rail you led
I stole an unclouded heart of a seraphic being and Lord knew I never felt guilty
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I tune myself on like a shortwave; appreciate my ballad
My affection is like a soft sanity texture, taste it like an italian salad
Language foreign, it crossed her ears like a train whistle
Reality blurry like she read my emotions from a scrambled epistle
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Wounded by unceasing reality
Fears so childish that they play with my delicate thoughts
All the aggression in me ought to be surpressed with time
As I pursue my goals I lean on sense of anticipation
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Blacklisted from all troubles of life one can exprience
Alone it can proclaim to be the master of perfection
Shred of dignity it possesses
Pure it is; Pureness it paints
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