Note: This, especialy, is a poem that I do not want to see re-used anywhere. This is a poem that will open my book, Yet Untitled. I have it under all the fun of copywrite, so... HA!
----
Yet Untitled
Words flow,
From wordless lips,
Sky shines with dull stars.
Song beats,
From silent drums,
Life stays unending.
To the born-dead child,
Who walks through the world,
I pity and pray,
For something more.
Stuck by the norm,
From anarchy reigns,
The ones with predestined might.
While they dreamt,
From black colour,
To the destiny of past.
We are the ones,
Yet untitled,
Who can see through,
Your hidden lies.
We are the ones,
Yet untitled,
To change the words,
And let them die.
----
Yet Untitled
Words flow,
From wordless lips,
Sky shines with dull stars.
Song beats,
From silent drums,
Life stays unending.
To the born-dead child,
Who walks through the world,
I pity and pray,
For something more.
Stuck by the norm,
From anarchy reigns,
The ones with predestined might.
While they dreamt,
From black colour,
To the destiny of past.
We are the ones,
Yet untitled,
Who can see through,
Your hidden lies.
We are the ones,
Yet untitled,
To change the words,
And let them die.
