Gone are most
Kings and Queens,
Monarchy, symbolic power
That got substituted,
By elected Liars
And Tyrannical Cowards,
That produce nothing
And only want perpetual
Power,
As they bleed peoples
And countries from
Their protected towers.
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They say,
With the Person,But with the Ideal,That Person represents,An abstract wonder,In your heart and in your head.Is it possible?Is it so?Please tell me,I so would Love,To know!
Poets know,
Flowered Rhymes,But can’t change History,PITY!
Writing emotions,
In pathetic prose,Flowery words get in the wayThat’s how it goes,I need the moving dramaOf a loving, dying roseTo paint and move the panorama,As emotion. mounts and grows.And I’m not a Novel writer,Too much time spent,For this slow driver.Emotionally,It’s instant,What affects me,Not time resistant,Must come out,Right away,For in me,Tranquilly,It will not stay.
A poet’s gift to others
And when appreciated,Nothing better,Ever heard.In our materialistic world,We sadly findArt’s bitter battleHoping to survive,All Poet’s Words,Try also very hardTo keep the artistic spirit,Well in hand,While poets’ spiritsStill on Beauty thrive.
The Evolution of Truth,
A painful cleansing,A thirst for purification,Edification,A person becoming a person,A Holy Journey towards Light!Illuminating Souls,That dancing with delight,At it’s Presence,Drink the sweet nectar,Of Peace within Peace.All becomes whole again,There is a rebirth,Of the Soul, Of the Flesh,A deliverance of the Mind,A Freedom never before felt,The ultimate liberation!The Truth,So difficult to Find,So difficult to Tell,As man’s…
Never found
So, kept insideTill it chocked me,But one day,Came out for air,Thin, scared and lonelyLove,Too late for prayers.Too late for tearsTo late, to even care.