My Halcyon

Drawing on instances of time, like chapters of a book,

trying to reel the mythology that isn’t his to explain.

Looking in hind side, he tries to say he knows.

But where is the focus,

when a snake is used to refer a serpent?

As his thoughts bridge upon the reason,

And anger into his cold mind.

 

Does he not remember,

Down this way the women instruct the men?

White men who instruct women: eating his soul to pieces.

Does he still insist he had a job to do,

while I did all the work?

Finding lost sons, lost loves, lost traditions, lost skies

whilst all my earths were being took?

 

Not a care of me there, then,

No apology for the false punishment or inflictions,

derived from my imagination and experience.

No ears for my fortitude.

I remember being told I am only a hater

and country has already been lost.

It wasn’t my fault. It was not gone is was still.

 

He, surrounded by the invasive freedom seekers,

The ones who want a slice for themselves.

Those with no acceptance of such a thing as mother earth.

Arguments continued over definition and dimension,

of how life was driven.

How it began.

Who brought trouble and more who, who, who.

 

Reasons refuted through backdoor antics, used for anger conscript.

Are territorial clashes used to put Uncles into despair,

as the Elders are out shined and ownership becomes a share?

A distant stare,

Can peace of mind be or does the whole country have to fall,

Under the fumbling excuse for the catastrophe?

And live below the snake.

 

The prophecy crusader turned into a dollar chaser

to mock the system,

Told; love to win.

Rear an opinion through a woman, that’s what they are good for.

Insisting he mocks only systemic order because the male must win.

Any who argues is scorn.

No brain, no heart only flesh for the worm.

 

Is his dream unreachable, because he wants to be a king?

Or is it that he loves my optics better than he can think.

Whatever the case the charisma is past the used by date.

My voice echoes in his heart.

Knowledge of his nemesis

he didn’t wish of me to speak.

Now he turns the tag on me.

 

The contest that never was, is lost

in grass, in bullets and slips.

Smoke is used to confuse

And suck upon the female’s tit.

Eating lies into the hearts of babes

and tearing cultures apart.

The earth is said to be anything man wants; but it is not!

 

His loins have delivered

A man needing a remedy.

He is not the villain,

His teeth showed eyes to the stakeholders dream.

Punishment kept mother sky alive.

The opportunistic using his journey

And willed to deprive me of mine.

 

He works for the short truth because it fulfils him better.

The removal of babies, the mind-fudging and the hymns,

Am I to accept blame for that too?

Whilst all I ever did was fight to protect you?

The part of you and me.

The travels I have endured, experiences and more,

I have found out now you forget me.

 

He has lost himself.

Vacant of perspective

Of what he was punished for

Does he know how hurt I am inside?

I guess that is irrelevant.

A man with a wounded pride,

Will stop and nothing to stand against his truth.

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