The echo of a limited voice,
a written site.
Review
The midst of nightmare had,
haunted me before I said,
the outcome still up to me,
to breathe in life,
such liberty!!
Crossing roads with stops that hold,
man-made Crosses with Tombs too full,
the intersection of life in tell,
a midst a place I think is Hell.
To brick my path with mortar, life,
I state that it is my past,
no shame is held,
embarrassment wrath
understanding becomes that it's fact.
Truth of done does never lack,
the scars are evident upon this run.
The race of Human,
the beings reside,
better yet we move in Math.
Comprehend a given rhyme,
within each hymn there is a find,
a personal reveal to self is real,
although this life does seem surreal.
Belief in structure or an order,
has fallen in Society's mortar,
the concrete blast will not last.
As history reveals a lurid past,
so easily this still does add,
so many missing sums subtract,
in division an equal sat.