Roses Thorns

Phantasmic magic
You’d call it tragic 

But you built it brick by brick 

In a space it does not fit

Destructive elevation 

From city to nation

Do you have the patience 

For all the demarcations

Pessimism to heroism 

If you hate the fucking system

Why do you seek out prisons 

In your passion for isms

And the roses thorns 

The blood you now adorn

From the scorn

But don’t you dare mourn 

Let it drip into the ground to feed

The soil to feed the seed

And in time your bloods a tree

A tree that helps you breathe 

Nothingness that creates

They’re so busy trying to indoctrinate 

Through violences that violate 

There’s no way to vindicate 

Territory as a partial whole 

Idealised transcendental goals

All you value is the soul

But it’s black smoke from burning coal 

The rivers flow 

You can never know 

But life will show 

Through the undergrowth 

This is almost done 

Alexander get out my sun

Are there bullets in that gun? 

What do you want to become? 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: