Shards of my Soul
This is not a poem these are pieces of a man at once torn and driven by melancholy these are shards of a torn soul. Iseek for her for her rose her feminine repose for her goblet her tulip.
But she is not and she is nowhere to be found all around me are gathered her seducers those who seduced her with promises they brought wealth with their wealth came the twin evils.
Mister tourism came first then he brought development . bled Nature once pristine reduced to rubble . Her children were sacrificed on the altar of greed, her seed left to rot in the streets and bleed. They bled from neglect of the spirit and soul we are now in modernity and crack cocaine a mongrel beast that rides its victims mercilessly. The young woman whom I so dilligently pursued is called Sint Maarten once beautiful queen now old bent and ravaged whore, her suitors and amours know her no more they want nothing to do with an old bent whore. Her beauty has faded her children to Europe fled, now she lays dying on an old bed putrid and rancid, making way for the dancing race a new people are being birthed like in Egypt, Tunisia, and Algiers steadily advancing until the masses rule and tyranny cease.
This is not a poem these are pieces of a man at once torn and driven by melancholy these are shards of a torn soul. Iseek for her for her rose her feminine repose for her goblet her tulip.
But she is not and she is nowhere to be found all around me are gathered her seducers those who seduced her with promises they brought wealth with their wealth came the twin evils.
Mister tourism came first then he brought development . bled Nature once pristine reduced to rubble . Her children were sacrificed on the altar of greed, her seed left to rot in the streets and bleed. They bled from neglect of the spirit and soul we are now in modernity and crack cocaine a mongrel beast that rides its victims mercilessly. The young woman whom I so dilligently pursued is called Sint Maarten once beautiful queen now old bent and ravaged whore, her suitors and amours know her no more they want nothing to do with an old bent whore. Her beauty has faded her children to Europe fled, now she lays dying on an old bed putrid and rancid, making way for the dancing race a new people are being birthed like in Egypt, Tunisia, and Algiers steadily advancing until the masses rule and tyranny cease.
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