Fear of Freedom

Free will can be God’s will

But Lucy in his craft has created customs and traditions that keep you caged

Maya knows why the caged bird sings

It sings of freedom that comes alive only in dreams

It sings of power and triumph over wickedness

Wickedness dressed in fear’s fashion label

The sophisticated fear of being seen or known

The colour blocking fear for tomorrow

The conventional fear of being disagreeable

Or just the casual fear of leaving your comfort zone

If only the caged bird could stop romanticising her cage long enough to pick the lock

Nobody wants to hear the shrill tune of deep sorrowful lyrics

Action speaks louder than songs

It will fall before it learns how to fly again

The free fall, an exercise of its free will because it knows God’s will

And even if it falls to the ground, the few seconds of living is better than an eternity of letting life pass by.

Live!

Nothing will happen

The worst that could happen is death

And to die is gain

ChyD
© 2026

Gods’ Of Match

We are a mix for many lands,
We are marching for very far;
In hearts, lips and hands
Our words are weapons of war
The light we walk in shines
Like sun, moon, and star.
Storm cannot shake nor stain
In forms that we are dreams retain;
The strength that makes us whole,
Is alive in us, our words fill every hole
Because the fire that moves is sovereign in our soul.
We are they that have to cope
With time till time retire;
Even though not are desire
For to us to live is Christ
And to die is gain.
We live in the world but heaven
We feed on tears and fire;
By inks, we give back our sheer desire.
We are gods of the match in this march
Generals of the church
This month no souls ever preyed upon
Our inks shall wander cold.

Davidgospel
© 2020

A No Man

A no man,
Found in imperfection,
Of a world full of pressures
Weighing side by side;
By beliefs, he’s tied,
And No!, he wouldn’t fly.

A no man,
came sitting at the tip,
Watching his legs get licked
By the foamy sea’s tongue,
Taking what nature gives;
Trying to see the world from new eyes.

A no man,
Lived and worked and bred in the richness of lack;
Caged in own mind,
Where dogs lick his wounds that life’s caused on him;
And No!, his end wouldn’t start now.

Times always happens,
When it does- standstill,
Believe in the maker of times,
Don’t go crying, don’t go pity-partying!
It’s really a no man’s business

TM Sungs
© 2020