From the Genesis of my days I do remember
From the verses of my blindness in those corpses
From the traditional religions of my past existence
From those pits of sorrows which ended up blackening my morals

I appeared on the bottoms and bases of the mortars
I existed on the first lines of their chorus
I stood like the electric poles worn with the chains of electric wires

In those natural speakers of their bodies I did lie
In the hooves of the quadruples I made a tie
In those question marks and questions I had a breath

By the tears of the apostles my body rose and fell like the stones in hopscotch
Everything I did was a comedy on their souls
That I moved in selfish days made up of satanic rays

From the past of my dust did rain a million tears in my eyes
From the rust stucked in my brain did come frightening spies
I lost my confidence and my hopes did fade from their natural dyes

Still the chances came as though they were sent for my shame
But still I didn’t align myself on the lines of the lame
And still I played the game as I thought it would be part of my fame

I shook myself trying to rise but again I was under the skies
Under the wires that fenced my body like the motor cycle tyres
With the chilly that I held in my hands like the botanical buyers

Like a lunatic I did remain with the failing phonetic
My heart was built again but in the same dramatic
Every part fainted as though I was a player of athletic

Only the sores I had gotten
Ate some of my goals and left me forgotten
Only my breathing doors made in me a fountain
Which only then I had to climb the mountain

I could live a life full of tears
The life that had left me unconscious and in the pools of fears
Just like deceased I did disappear

Years ago I remember were the tears and fears on my soul

© Paul Peter Job Joshua