The Moon’s Reprisal

Upon the Creator’s image who belays this planet and rejoices in the demise of his superficial heart    
Is a lost man to his own soul begging for redemption in the Sovereign dust to dark      
To lay upon the thistles of his deferred dreams      
Rich hands, empty offerings of soothing balm in the nature of his being        
In the dense of his sanctuary, the intellect kneels for the reprieve of earth      
Does not the soul in chaos still strive for rebirth      
We struggle in our daily endeavors to find perfection in the evolution of the day      
No seconds is promised in our slumber as we lay      
Amid gratitude to awaken come the morning glory      
Knees lessening in thankfulness to pray      
      
Raindrops to fertile the parched land        
High noon sunrays to warm the soil tilled by barren hands        
There is remorse in tears from blind eyes      
Who looks around but not deep enough inside to see the impending doom of his own demise      
Heinous idioms to confess they know the truth yet stand on the throne of theological lies      
Ancient Kings and Queens depravation to conquer whispers from the skies      
      
Thy will be done, thy Kingdom come, as the moon becomes undone      
Casting stones, hide the hand, Moorish pride castrated at the roots for the truth of the tongue      
My mortal presence represented by the tenth dimension in this beautiful realm we call earth      
Written in the stars of a cosmic rebirth
Not regulated by man’s hand to reason, demand, or command  
Or a woman's hands to reprimand    
My enigma one will never understand             
Reach my perception of my cognitive awareness in that higher plane of existence      
Beyond this, nothing can be imagined by lowly mortals, one with the universe, and only here to serve the time of a spiritual mission
    
Which makes it the natural limitation of what we can only conceive      
With the naked eye, one with self in the benediction of worth, you could not perceive      
What good is a person to others who does not love self      
Does its spirit shun the shadows of its face in disgrace      
Or show the pillar of false sainthood as one may dwell in the turmoil of his own dark wealth  


Copyright©SKC-2023