Wednesday, July 13, 2016
VICTIMIZED VICTIMS(a duel by Philosopher and Writehand)
Men of the underworld have tortured us,
We passed through excruciating pains.
They created zebra crossings on our back,
Which added sorrows and sent us aback.
We are like a music band, headed in one direction.
The unknowns of a distorted race,
The chemtrails of bifurcations,
We know only how to say the grace.
Our tears are now singing,
Singing songs of solemn sorrow.
Our hopes are sobbing
Sobbing sobs of critical crisis.
With throats washed with steam,
And necks made for guillotines,
Faces booked as victims,
Eyes blinded to the real thing.
Our Spittles couldn't even tell the tales;
Tales of how we were made slave in our land.
Our neighbours are mosquitoes;
Mosquitoes that wine and dine on our dying souls.
We are voices lost in the silence of a pitchforked universe,
Hawks cawing names of the almighty and echoed instances of lost planets.
We are gutless vendors of things,
Imperfect endings of the influenced.
We've been made belittled in our sight;
Even when we strive, we can't fight.
Like a blind berger, we've been made to wonder;
Like a cripple, we couldn't move nor ponder.
We bare crosses of the infidels,
Nameless crimes of which the almighty repented
We are victims,
We are victims.
We are victimized victims,
We've be tormented and chained like thieves.
We passed through hardship, and pains,
Our smiles and now plastic, labelled without gain.
We are Vic' things
Stoned cold on reality,
We live once yet die daily;
Lost and left behinds; waiting for the transporter to get back.