Crimson

My soul feels cold
My eyes blind
What is, seems not
And what wasn’t, came to be

The veil of ignorance
Trapped in my illusions
These cuffs from the past
Eating flesh around my ankles

If only I had listened,
To the winds from the future
The Black Swan I saw,
Floating down a drying stream

The road we walked,
On shelling mines under our feet
A brother I lost
The only sister to care

Only to cry on my shoulder
Before she turned and walked,
Into the horizon
With my hands painted,
Into the crimson of the falling sky

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Black gold

Petals of sin
A cold breath from his soul
Frozen,
The fountain of tears

A line of ethics,
Between church and man
Is the truth a mystery?
Or a divine canvas?

Stretching the skies,
That the light sunburn what he sees,
Given time and place,
The shadows of the moon

A party TV of a painting,
Prejudice or nothing,
Pulling to oneself,
The plague of propaganda

Giving gins to the church,
To let a child live death
The reality of a cynical world,
Lost in the fumes of the black gold

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New divide

Whispers and judgements,
the waves in the sky
Cracks of a shattered trust,
and minds distorted

A brotherhood of lies,
and a mountain of secrets
Stacking and overflowing,
the river of blood

He hates my smile,
and I hate his eyes
The way of perception,
this new divide

A difference of time,
these amplified desires,
and a widening gulf
When we let go of our hands,
and our feet, parted ways

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thank you for reading
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