Tag: Sleep

The Cross

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A hand with a cross
These crosses the empty zones
Like a flying drone
A game of the weak with the strong
Not exactly a contest
But an interest, a request of a savior

A game for the peak and a tale of the wrong
This is about the struggle
That rumbles with man’s eternity
He has been a warrior since the day one
Faces persecution
Stoned by test and trials
Wandered away from the rally of deceit into the valley of shadow of death
Yet a hand bared the cross

In the realm of sleep
Wars, battlefront
Wrestling
Against the devouring clones
With hopelessness
And darkness
And at the tip of condemnation
Rises the hand that bares the cross

And when flaws
Had risen and fallen
Like a raging sea

Wagging war against its self
Beneath the surface of reality
Grew strength
To carry on
Amidst those circumstances
For he who bares the cross
Has render all flaws useless
And had broken all chains by His blood
Freedom oh kingdom!!!

The Alchemist
© 2018.

SELF-1

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My name is self,
I like to introduce myself as mySELF
I can be black and I can be white,
I can be chocolate and I can be fair,
I do not know which color I am here, but the fairest of them all is myself.

I hate the sun, because I love to sleep,
I love myself, I love to just be,
I do not answer to anyone, my comfort is dare to me,
I have created my zone so I can be pleased and free.

I am lovely,
I am beautiful,
I am proud,
I am strong,
I am bold,
But I have only one problem,
I don’t understand why I have a conscience,
I don’t know why I have a me in me that is alien to me,
I don’t know why I have a me in me that is crazy to me,
You wouldn’t understand,
But Crazy Me is trying to take over the whole me,

Shoot a bullet to the north, shoot another to the south,
When would they ever meet?
Show me that line that separates good from evil, so I could dare to cross it,
I promise you, that’s all from the crazy me,
Crazy me always preaches to me,

I don’t get it,
I love me,
I love comfortable me,
I love to do as I please,
That is just natural to me,
But crazy me tells me that my comfort is evil to Him,
So why would I ever want to cross from evil to good? Who cares about Him?

I love evil,
Evil is the good for me,
Evil is what pleases me,
Everything else just irritates me,
I love it when people sing my praises to me,
I love when everyone is envious of me,
I am also famous to me,
But when I am not creating something epic about me,
I am just really thinking of me.
Myself really hates the crazy me,
To me he is the evil me,
He tells me about a God who loves me, but hates the comfortable me.

National Poet

(c) 2018