Sunday Inner Reflections: Warning Song to the Corrupt!

What have you done?
Oh rising sun,
What have you done?
Upon this day?

What have you seen,
To have such greed?
Your evil deeds- won’t buy
Into Heaven’s gate!

What will you do,
Oh old and new?
When time rewinds
To reflect your own doom!

The powers that be
Are corrupt with greed
The powers that be
Will reflect damned destiny!

You say you must,
Rule o’er us.
You claim it’s just
But it’s not the way!

As we are to grow,
Tired of your toil
Bad slave master rots
As does your soil!

You surely won’t
Continue to dictate.
We ask our state,
Wisen to these words- or disintagrate

Now listen to us,
To leave you must.
Or the winds will gust,
You to prison of fire you the injust!

Glimpses of Hope

Glimpses of hope shine through
A phone call and a friend
Defining pain and pressure
The system and my hatred for it.
They take what we call family
Due to their needs for funds
Yet what about us who starve
They continue to spill out poison
Lying with their silver tongue
Bleeding to oblivion.
This is the truth and not rantings
Of a deaf mute artist painting bridges
Unconnected but spliced through
Another stroke assembles the masses.
One day we will be an army of many
Your death threats from the man
Your worries are vacated by mystery.
We will overcome with war
A worthwhile for all to partake
Against the legislation lying
Saying all is well.
It’s not all fine and dandy is it?
Your veins course through the gore created by only you.
A warning to those who listen
An unresolved destination as anger boils.
We tire of our reality as we gather our army,
Our forces to fight against the man.
This system is broken and the masses
Will one say for all?
What will it take to fix this?
To ensure our army has it all
Some claim they always win
But the players have gained advantageous results.
Promise: if you once followed them
As a number within these masses
That was all you were as you served
Your life and your often death as numbers.
Inequality how can one be triumphant
As the war and steel bars are at hand.
We will vacate this mystery
Into the hands of the vote
Yet all lay in paths of predestination
A precursor and recipe for disaster.
An unsettling soul still sits in the care
Of the enemy.
One exit and the war will be over
A momma bear no longer trying to care for her broken family.
A lost cause of bleeding, spilling hope
One path and way to stop them
And their victorious lies.
We will forcibly take
Our reality they gave us and spit on it to show them filth they create so freely.
Integrity and response gathers
Into the shadows watching and waiting
It is us who are the keepers.
The keepers of the gates
The keepers of the truth
As it becomes roused within a small soul
Of a lost apprehension and warning.
Win or lose,
Kill or be killed.
Frustrated masses come together
No longer feeling alone.
Sigh at the struggle and speak for the masses with no paper to support.
With knowing what you don’t
And willing to reach the truth within
Their definitions of justice
I gawk and stare into pail eyes
Of destruction and of pain.
I will not lose this battle and cannot-
Lose this war.
It is our hope and freedoms I adore
To want back so much
Outpouring the gore.
Follow me through the path of truth
Set our people free from lost prevention
Settle the score to be free
Without the men writing their realities
I write my own.
This will end one way or another
The choice left up to you.
Suppression and fear with them
Or a pale white horse slathering on war paints with me.
All remains to be seen
A glimpse of hope
A tired body
And a racing mind.
To the finish, vacating the finish line.
Poisoning them would create freedom for us
A taste of their own medication
I will their fate into existence
They shall suffer as I have and then some.
They collect funds that quickly turn into snakes.
Shattering bars and glass
Simultaneously laughing at their poison and jokes which they willfully
Called the truth.
Glimpses of hope.
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