An ode to self empowerment – K. B

An ode to self empowerment
Fake trinity
Not a minute
Of rest
O Holy ghost
God
And me.

Fake trinity
Not a minute
Of rest
I am
The third
Son of light

One is corrupted
Till the end
The other
Ah, forget
About him
Remains
Only
Myself

Beyond
Good and evil
There’s a garden
Of light

In which
The soul
Finds respite
Not friendship

Fake trinity
Not a minute
Of rest

They keep
Nagging
In the hour
Of dawn

Wrestling
To get my
Attention
But theirs
Is made
Of suffering
And pain,

Born from
Violence

Born
From the blind
Power
Of sheer force
Forcefully
Pulling
In every direction

I remain quiet
And spring
A source
From myself
I hold it together
Like a pupeteer

The hour was quiet
And I was thinking

The hour was quiet
And I was devoid
Of any stress
Evacuated
Through
Nostrils
Brought
To cold
Waters
With smoke
And carefree
Undemicated
Sleep, ( what
A peace, for once ! )

Fake trinity
Not a minute
Of rest

When it comes
To the heart
Of the pocketbook
No one plays fair,

Except maybe
The first
Son of light
Fisting me
Most of the
Time

Oppressing
The weak
Taming
The strong
Keeping
Everything
Under control
Not a hint of emotion
Until it bursts out
With absolutely
No elegance
Nor refinement,

Fuck you
Both ,

I’m away,

Flyin’ high, Sorry !

Unless you show kindness
I won’t come down
From the mountain top
Coz’ that’s why I climb,

To escape from you !

 

Copyright K.B.

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