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Tuesday, 31 July 2012

Sown Seeds In Foreign Lands



Pride is the value of a man's life so little 
Like the gas fumes that burns on petrol 
To have seen a thousand men hang on strings 
For theirs as pride was robbed of them so easy 


Men with souls search for their identity 
What meaning to be defined by in life 
Be it as religion or as family 
But as family most, most as family 


Today I witnessed a man lose his pride 
So simply robbed in daylight painful 
With such rush audacity of misplaced loyalty 
And I feared what edging action would bequest of him 


Lonesome in the middle of the night dark 
When most thoughts taunts and louds with echo 
The laughter of silence quite and penetrating 
What most was lost, stolen in the brightest of day 


We left our seeds in foreign lands with promise 
Where dreams became nightmare of the living 
And pages of gospel scrolls with scriptures 
Lost a thousand words to thin air 

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