Playing tapes in my head (still one of many)

still reeling.
I rocked the blue sky still, watching as it dimmed away,
Leaving night in Her splendor, darkness mixed with soft lights,
A treat to eyes that were blinded, by the staring into madness.
I followed slowly to the ledge, of crazy town alone.
I had to flee these madness, fools who complied to gladness,
while tears pain loomed in their eyes again.

So I tred this path alone, no companion but mu soul.
I let the tears drop in silence,bread crumbs to my soul.
Dear friend don't mind my tone, the the words I say are filled with pain,
In truth my blindness, in light I vained madness,
And bowed to Queens of stone, no penance did they give me.

To God I lay my soul, in broken pieces like old gold,
that took the form of coal and muck, from the sins i bared on my back.
I pack each lie one by one, every sin i did I took,
and my cross of lead i took, through the sleeping cities,
as people walked sleeping, to hope for peace in war.

This my repentant soul, must learn these sins let go.
For remorse will kill me, Her name I have taken,
while her house I have dwelled in, a sinner full of gold and toil,
a friend to mad-men in their soil...
... ... ...

Playing tapes in my head (one of many)

Biograpia...(Auto)

Your life is a story, told to many.
The choice of when, by whom, where and why are all in Your hands.
I decide to tell my story in my own words,
My own way.

I choose to be the one who tells the truth about me.
My life through my eyes, through a thousand and one mirrors.
I decided to no-longer be a victim of people's near sighted view of who I am.
I hence decided to be ME.

Be the ME I know I Am.
For In My story...

Playing tapes in my head (one of many)

Set in the back.

It was final in a way, the sun had set;
the night did stretch forth her veil of darkness.
The evolution of man's thoughts had brought birth to lightning,
but it was yet, as imperfectly deprived of thunder.
The light that the lamps did bring forth had now been abandoned, yet in my soul I could hear the rain,
as She did her companion converse with.
The randomness of existence had been given meaning long before,
before the day My first breath did flood these mortal lungs.

So I saw it set in the back of my mind, hidden behind the debris of a mediocrity
that surpasses my own sanity.
Above the sanctity of my own existence , the closure that I seek in my own dis-functionality.
The thought of love and so called acts of love, that just stew You in disparity,
I wish to toss this thought to the world just this once.

They called me by names out of a medical journal by V.Frankenstein,
that I was pieced up into nothing-ness.
I am not Your mumbled up words, nor am I a fragment of Your imagination.
I am who I am, I am who I AM says I am.

I did this once flip this script for a moment, to make this poison less potent.
They have sput in my ears words so profane and called this nonsensical rumbles love,
I do not believe in that Your "cupid's" arrows.
When love is like a mucky stream,I shall not tred into it.
I will not join my soul to another, a promise they have made, broken and destroyed ,
a million times to make it thus reduced to dust, slowly being blown off into the distant wind.
...
Grow up You foolish bum. Get off Your lazy thrown and shed off Your crown of complicity.
Walk on, as the wind ushers in a reality of an on coming desert.
*** *** ***
Till next we meet.
Kwaheri.