The air is still. The streets have fallen very silent!
Even the cars seem like clandestine ghosts
whistling past in the ambience of calumny
and treachery. Who can still the vicious hand
that murders bravery? Who breaches truth
that takes away the birthright of the righteous?
How can I ignore a cabal, when his wall keeps
siphoning of my armies? You can imagine
that my trumps, that I took great pains to
install are falling like dominoes from the
wickedness of a man! Saint Paul, who else?
The ruthless devourer and snatcher; both
occupations interspersed by his convenience.
There are even pirated identities that leave
victims without their own names!
My mountains did not carve that abyss
It only found its footing by slither and stealth
How can I demask the relentless masquerade
of treachery? My toil and sacrifice to have
my anointed Kings…only to see the world
taken away from them and me by
the evil misbegotten lechery of Prakash
Saint Paul and his minions!
montes-musings.blog 