The colours I see are all black
And drunk with desires of rage.
The magical eyes of Faith lack
What faith men had ages back.
The reeking wounds of my hope
Tell the tattletales of my pestilence.
And the darkness wearing its ghastly cope
Appears not the reptile but the rope.
Lo and Behold! Here comes the light!
Oh this light blinds my eyes!
This scorching asks me of flight.
Will then there be no end to this plight?
What plague pains my nerves,
Do I know? Do you know?
What end does it serves
With all its gyres and curves?
How far can I ramble?
One day I’ll fail, I’ll fall.
What voices have created preamble?
All I say is babble!
My voices hush and seek corners.
Do I dare walk? Do I dare write?
Will I offend some God or mourners?
Would I be against fellow foreigners?
Will you be pleased at me
When I write what befits you?
How far am I allowed to see
How deep can I go without a killing spree?
What do I have in one loose hand?
A broken dream, a lost faith, a stumbling hope.
Would I be cast away? Like others be banned
If I speak? Should I join a band?
I make shapes on my sheet
Thinking of inoffensive terms and themes;
Something safe, not to strike heat
Amongst those with no rhyme or beat.
What do I speak? Who knows?
My voices are trodden with thousand bells.
Go pray! Your head knows its bows,
But your heart shows what it shows.
But is there something else to be seen?
‘Hush! Speak no more!’ Prophet commands,
‘Speak no more! Eyes closed, drooling tongues in.
Follow! Follow! There I have been!’