I am not walking in the rain,
even though, for too long, I’ve known pain!
I am certainly no shadow,
no following the object like a stalker
but a master of my own devices and design
We are no prey until we begin to feel victimised
Predators are like a function of destiny, that knows how to consign them eventually
It is not a folly to hate; even bigotry came with the breakening
Many know loneliness, but would you thank solitude
to give you a wisdom clear of any influence
when your kingship is your own
as unmaligned as a baby bathed in holy oil
which has to be ever so carefully held.
And would anyone conjecture, that this time round,
the love between God and Goddess has turned avuncular
And yet, a sacred thread wraps around them
to be unravelled at a later age
till love is no longer a gooligum
You can see that the Gordian Knot of the Phrygians
is no illusion. It is only meant for the Kings of God;
not the treachery of fakedom that has been the vanguard
of beliefs that have not been repudiated yet,
I am waiting for my armies to cross the horizon
before an eternal dusk sets in
that they no longer be swimming in the Styx of fear of villains;
the lie and liar having died of their own poisson and venom
And I be the God within those folds that only I did unfold!
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