"What Would there Be?"

 Onto the palm

Letters scribble a story.

 

Stolen!

 

As voice fades in rounds

Muffled to the ear.

 

Imprinted!

 

Down onto the canvas

The palms stamps on

To review art in pain.

 

Shaken!

 

The lines blur to stares

Seeing stars colliding to war

Peace escaping the pieces.

 

Scattered!

 

A village remain but torn

Only reminisce of past civilization stands

Standing the ground of Kings bloody plays.

 

Tomorrow!

 

Rising to the occasion of informed past

Like ants a civilization of Ubuntu is birthed

Defeating the monster jailing the mind.

 

Hope!

Oh Brother Me!

 

Oh brother me!

How we cry when the rain is all our doing.

Seeing tomorrow as curse

Yet if only we open our eyes.

 

Chasing the goals of ghost

While reality yearns for our touch.

As dear today offers us a chance to exploit

But the selfish we fear to try.

 

Oh brother me!

I'm my own monster

But I see no harm in tomorrow being a waste,

Time it is!

But I'm scared to confront the demons within.

 

As louder in my head, they curse me

Mock me down to find comfort in fear

Fighting their tainted battle of lies

Yet solaced in sitting to succeed.

 

Oh brother me!

Open your eyes see

Wonders do live around

But only....

Oh brother me!

Only if you bother to open your eyes to see.