“ A Near Dead Soul ” ~ draped in defeat ~

A near dead soul

Bled of iniquity,

Hobbles his way

Draped in defeat,

A façade now surly

Etched on his face,

Burdened with gait

That once held grace,

Who journeys in hell

From wrongful deeds

His mind can’t dispel,

Now sadly bears fate

That mirrors his hate!

ode to death of a friendship

“ What Will Hold Sway ” ~ to be rid of hate ~

 

One ceases wonder

What might hold sway,

On yet reached state

Gone beyond late,

Would set us free

In time be rid of hate,

To not play race

Nor creed or faith,

Means embrace bait,

Preached by man dubious

In a dogmatic place,

In grips now held as bold

Where power so extols,

Man would find to call fate!

 

ode, to the overpowered by hate,
the world over…