EPICENTRE

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EPICENTRE 

Shards of lonely pieces

Wonder if you collect them all

Blunder, surrender, thunder

A sequence of series forbidden and cradled for

Humanity, cruelty, insanity

Colors of a new mosaic painting in my gallery

Flying through the seeming disparage

Wonder if you’ll make it through this stairwell

A stairwell of magic and wonder

But once inside,

An epicenter for mean old sufferings

They speak of godly wordings and messiahs

Often misinterpreting their desire for love and admire

Round we go, chanting beautiful hymns

Round we go, lighting beauties of fire

Round we go, round we go, round we go

And suddenly we’re tired

A bond of creativity and purity

Broken by the schemes of an unoccupied mind

Something born out of love and beauty

Is now nothing but a breeding ground

For hate, illusion and deceit.

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