The pen is forsaken

Pen is forsaken,
Illegitimate with prose,
Like a pimps love child,

Ink bleeds with wartorn word wizardry,
Creativity I clasp with a hand gripped by a disconcerting disease,


Revolution most certainly not televised ,
Dancing saintly with devilish moral deficit,

I often ponder if life would be easier if I won a million ?,

Or would my riches crumble,
Like earthquakes and condominiums,

Heavenly conceptions get ostracized,

By overlords who oversee oblivion,

By draconian dictators wielding a grizzled  fable of oblivion,




Trying to find home
Like immigrant,
Against tidal wave,
With God's grace,
I guess I will see u in the next,
Life time ,

Native codes deconstructed,
Devils crushing ,
Goodwill,

Chakras  get analysed by sufistic parlance,
Marvelled by your malevolence,

One eyed methodology,
They so vehemently preach,

Inconceivable,

Utterances of soul,

Muted,

Silence pervades,

Rugged revivalist,

On a voyage,

But can't find my compass,

Innocence impeded,

In the courts of the disingenuous and the morally diseased,

Trying to find justice,