An Ode To My Brothers : Seed Bag

The babies of time slumber in this seed bag,

Shallow hearts,drown our souls.

These winds have calmed in acceptance ,

acceptance of a drought at the sea bed.

Friend, here we are at the end of the road,

Mined Fields mark the road back home,

Its funny but this is the last lap of eternity,

Its time to sacrifice dreams and love.

Time to help a world collapsing under its load,

its time to go shoulder the roofs of our homes,

time to sing of happiness and glory.

Time to be givers of lives,time to be lost for someone else.

The red sky of truth marks this road,

Fellow, its time to give up on our own dream.

Even if their world of love is ribald ,

it still cures the wounds we hid under a saint like smile.

Give up the Prose and join me in this rhapsody,

lets give truth and hope another chance.

Lets save these lands for our sons,

the ones in this seed bag.

Why do the angels of peace carry rowels?

The storm keeps on building

the twigs shiver,dead birds awake

to sing their last songs again.

The fort of lies crumbles and you sit

nibbling on a grief of a thousand sins.

The thunder then strikes,

the shoulders feel a warming lightness.

Ecstasy is lost somewhere in the wreckage,

You'll find some comfort here.

Hope is the name of a heaven in hell.

Come join us, mercy sits next to me,

wondering why the obvious was not fulfilled,

Why the sons of god love sacrifice so much,

Why is sorrow the treasure they cherish profusely

Why is love pleached with hate?

The absence of craving and screaming,

leads to a void of reason and menacing understanding.

Why can't I be just a dreamer?

The only truth about life is death ,the rest is a world of dreams.

The dreams make our choices,the world, our decision.

Why is peace colored in a mourning white?

Love and life is closer to the unknown

than what birth is to death.

An untamed free will is not a pocession of evil ,

merely a passionate gift of love.

Being lost is a Spring in autumn.

Yet Why do angels of peace carry rowels?

Running back, back to be lost again,

i see angels guarding the road back home,

they smile and love, help me find my way home.

There somewhere i'm the grays is home,i run,run with all my might.

Then i stop to realize its lost somewhere in the bricks.

I ask myself why do angels of peace carry rowels?