Walking To Our Very Own SongA Poem by A.r. BazianWalking To Our Very Own Song
behold before thee... the glorious might of man he, who thereto this very second does all he can
swollen... as a b*****d's most worsened dress of vanity, monstrosity and casting stress
behold before m'self the most deepened wounds ones that I cry, in most sacred wombs
the times have neared us to ours foolish end amidst the ides of existence, we've marked our trend
the killings and scavenging, of no other's prey; but ourselves we sought to save our day
but none a thought I have of this nor do i remember... for every thought i've taught, dismissed... has its own December
Alas, as the whaling ends at set of light we know now the reachings of our sight
as every rose whithers at our feet here tonight there rises a million to back our fight
And we need not forget, who we really are sons of gods, and of man, alike and of whatever star
remember the human within ye to have seen us thusfar this god that you deny, has healed our every scar
is calling before the coming of winter as before our fate is due the voice that calls yer heart with truth... That voice... is really you!
By; The Black Iris, Of The Luminous Imperious © 2012 A.r. BazianAuthor's Note
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4 Reviews Added on September 26, 2010 Last Updated on November 7, 2012 AuthorA.r. BazianAmman/Salt, Middle East, JordanAboutA Communist in the Making, and a Student of History and Life. Find me on Hellopoetry too: http://hellopoetry.com/abazian more..Writing
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