Philosopher's Pen

It left my lips Into the wings of the wild winds Like untamed stallion holding it back was impossible The word had it's progeny A vague replica of the sire No one could tell what it meant anymore Or exactly what was said For it was said off record And heard in the false echo by the right ears From the wrong source and medium That which was well meant smelled like a maleciois rumor Truth and cover-up looked like sons of the same womb Flames of distrust and suspicion eating away the flesh of noble intention Love of brothers soured into notable contention Acred stench of regret suffocating my solitary mind How I wished the golden septor of silence had governed my lips The words and intention would have descended like the son of man Coming with the clouds of heaven at the right hand of God the Father But all that was left for my use was a valuable lesson to be kept in the chest of wisdom

They are there for you In good and bad times You pour to them your heart And more than a bucket full they take Telling you all is well and hold on They are doing the best they can to make you better While their own basketful is unattended They sacrifice everything for you to be ok For love and for the duty They try to hold on to everything The shear force of tearing world pulling them apart They hold the pain And see souls they could not save dancing on the ceiling of their bed chambers Maybe there is more I could do thought flashes through the solitary mind Beating self to do better yet the best was already done Feeling sick is inevitable But who heals the healer

I want to be strong But for how long Poetry is my close friend who I share with my secret pain Because I don't have to be the persona Even if my motivation is the pain bottled in my neck Even if it hurts and makes people smile I am not the persona even if every drop of ink paints my excruciation Poetry hides me, makes me wake up without feeling ashamed of spilling my shit So my white shirt is white and my shit is not mine That is smart,the selfless persona takes the pain I take the gain But it still does not feel better So I can smile from the outside and only God knows what I feel inside I stand on the stage spewing my heart out The crowd cheers at how heartfelt each word is How true to human condition I write It just can't be me I also believe I am not the persona As much my noose dangerously dangles close to my nose I can't be the one Till everyone say it can't be! Alarmed at the it could be

Sometimes I wonder Where will I get with all this wander  May be I will be the last wonder No wonder I seem to be the only one of my kind alive Seeking to understand the five rays While the fire of one God still burns in me Amids the demand for multiple piety I keep faith but sometimes fail to go to church on Sunday I find mammon greatly important But I do not wish to abandon my jealous God To whom I send my piety to find pity for my soild soul Him I am expected to give blind faith For love is blind and I am bound by my allegence to love Him with all my heart I wish to turn to understand my ancestors who warshiped one God and called him a different name The God I am told they saw in the sun and old trees And the first mission to our land declared them pagans Turning my eyes to see what they saw is quite for bidden So my faith swings on the seesaw of insatiable desire Coupled with modernization quickly taking over The powder keg of religion calls for devine clarification...

Held under the rubbles The pieces fell one by one  It was happening like nothing was happening Patiently falling away thinking I was in control Not knowing that I was getting under control Of substances loosing my soul to pursuit of insatiable pleasure Thinking I was growing stronger When I needed more to get a high I only learnt I was lost When I was already in the underworld With the hell fire of craving inflicting mortal pangs Running lost between deathly consumption and mortal withdrawal Feeling dead and only needed a little dose of death to feel alive I cried for help But most of my friends were also drawing in the same bottomless sea If I could turn back time I would erase the day I sold my soul to the first puff and bottle That now accounts for the days I spend in warship of goulish gods Eating away my life Burning in smoke I try to find my way back to salvation Hopping God still seeks broken souls