deepundergroundpoetry.com
Fly Like An Eagle...
TicK Tock…
I wanna fly like an eagle to the warmth of the sun
Where the moon upon man’s repentance cannot hide from
Let the air carry me above in flight as my wings spread in the quest to be free
Where the reminisce of my soul my fall and be floated away by the current of the sea
Exemplifying to be the best, casting first stones, promising in vanity to be the chosen one, no, it is only an assertion which wallows when the mind is mentally unfit, resurrected as a misfit, when you are blind and cannot fathom your small presence among the celestial offering is ordained by fate’s shift
Misguided from planetary mystical alliance that has somehow turned off the Crown Charka switch
Feed the babies who do not have enough to eat
Deaf the gun’s bullets who kill the innocence on the street
House the hopeless, the homeless without shoes on their feet
Our salvation the hidden key of our own mind's revelation
Seeping brain matter in the structure of communication unto the glory of the keystroke's gratification
Imprisoning the mind from no spiritual intellectual elevation
Oh God how, time keeps slipping into the future
I wanna fly like an eagle to the warmth of the sun
Where the moon upon man’s repentance cannot hide from
Let the air carry me above in flight as my wings spread in the quest to be free
Where the reminisce of my soul my fall and be floated away by the current of the sea
Exemplifying to be the best, casting first stones, promising in vanity to be the chosen one, no, it is only an assertion which wallows when the mind is mentally unfit, resurrected as a misfit, when you are blind and cannot fathom your small presence among the celestial offering is ordained by fate’s shift
Misguided from planetary mystical alliance that has somehow turned off the Crown Charka switch
Feed the babies who do not have enough to eat
Deaf the gun’s bullets who kill the innocence on the street
House the hopeless, the homeless without shoes on their feet
Our salvation the hidden key of our own mind's revelation
Seeping brain matter in the structure of communication unto the glory of the keystroke's gratification
Imprisoning the mind from no spiritual intellectual elevation
Oh God how, time keeps slipping into the future
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