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Monday, 19 April 2010

Rascals In The Saints

In our days in the saints, oh saints..
We were no saints..
Like wild weeds..
The stubborn among them..

That breathes the poisonous weed killer spray..
Sprayed in on it's throat with delight..
In-between pavement, arrrogantly poking..
Heads up, held high and mighty, in flair..
Watched in flair..

Admired by the aspirants..
Cursed by the dislike..
Misunderstood by all..
A renegade among men..

In our days in the saints..
We walked like Kings among commoners..
With lives as with that, of a cat's life..
We survived nine lives..

As miracles are in enigma..
We were miracles in our own right..
In wild stories echoed ...

We were the main characters talked about..

Some wrote on the walls..
Writings, cursed to be doomed...
Dammed to be left for dead..
For the prophecy among men..
Saw no bright light of sun rise in ray..
When she looked in the oracle..

In our days, in days at the saints..
We were no saints..
But legends we became..
When the sun went down..

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