The end is not the beginning
the beginning is not the end
But somewhere in the middle
we find the roads that bend
Faith gives us blind relief
Our hearts give us unguided hope
Yet somewhere in the middle
The soul is left to grope
In vain we wait for angels
Hoping they will give reprieve
But in our heart we know truth is a liar
We know the devil will deceive
Our truths lie ensconsed in shadows
And we follow as vapid sheep
obediently we are led 'thin the fallows
whilst they rape us 'midst our sleep
we're possessed by our restrictions
Still we guard our sordid hearts
held in chains by our infections
forgetting our intrinsic parts
wake up and smell the stink
of the soul that's left to rot
baring the dye of putrid ink
that has left an obvious spot
We shall n'er be the victor
Of the greed that holds us bound
For our need it holds us captor
Of a silent screaming sound
Rosevina Halley
Saturday, December 16, 2017
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Caribbean (St. Maarten) Slang Definition
Look for black sheep before dark: Make hay while the sun shines