Belief (Poem)

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Belief (Poem)

With our impulses pulsating,
Holding the pulse of Satans hand
with an arm on the harmonica of an angels harmony,
in the harms and virtues we see and do not see
in us, both the lowest of the low and highest of the high.
Breathing heavily, like thieves of jeopardy
flicked on and off between our states
what have we taken from our afflictions?

How humanity can be so ungrateful
Blasphemy in torment, thankless when it lays dormant
Trivialise lives to trivial lives
Try via lies to render lives vile
Through propaganda and deceit
These are improper gates to propagate,
For the believer sees sufferings as trials
‘Belief’… is not an enemy to defeat.


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