K - Middle Verse
Spoken - 1st and 3rd
I used to ask people the question of life
Until the matter of fact shattered the plight
A knife jolt to the humboldt in the rise
Of an anti-christ poetic in form and size
Reside in the blossom of blooming flower
Consuming hours in transition to valour
And veritas isn’t symbolic; for the future
Grasps the roots in the widened cracks of pewter
Prized in manure for the dismal plant
Where thorns are lanate in humanly stance
Precious elixir of life; leafed diamond
Chose over the tropical shores of islands
For a morgue of water, encapsulated asylum
A mortal child, beguiled with each unconscious breath
Rose from the concrete living for her subconscious death
Left for adoption the insensitive option from human
An innocent figure till she’s delivered maturity acumen
Live for the moment until realism offers a hollow subsidence
When it happens she’ll regret she didn’t follow her guidance
Put hence on the blame, try to reframe from labeling her mistakes
The world’s misery flows in lakes..
Innocent takes magnetic form and attaches to aches
Flakes of her pureness escape, as she grows more mature
If you haven’t a focus in life, your outcome becomes obscure
To secure her spot as a teen ‘cause her childhood is finished
She must betray her frame work, to portray her image
As the infant grows older, with her life now self managed
Roots are formed from her stem, and concrete is damaged
Her elder life is a test, no rest for her mental fitness
How can she make a difference if one has never been witnessed?
And what’s sick is her years have been exposed to slaughter
The rose can’t point to the sun if it is starved from water
A lonely daughter, this rose has been subjected to thorns
Her existence torn, we can mourn..
..as earth is no fit place to be born.
A diety of beautiful music encased
In a fate solidified by it’s glass vase
Raped of it’s natural into a gradual decline
Inclined to soon wither in winter’s time
Bitter wine draped onto it’s love lost in toil
Rainbows shrunk into the horizon for April soil
Seraphs’ lyres shook Elysium into ruins
While a child’s cry was left in contempt of humans
Left aside for the pesticide, chemicals, and darkness
Stilled in the tarnish of Mother Earth’s black carcass
Soon all was gone in dawn’s melancholy light;
White drapes caped the day’s survival at night
And a brittle torn rose answered my question of life
#1.
#2.
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Originally Posted by Deviate
