KUMBAYA!

Black and white prints
Smears the heart with gore
We seek for glory in the pages
Gory tales we find.
We seek for hope
Death and war knocking at our doors in the stead.

Trivialising the commoner’s life
Their health or wealth a parochial gospel
It is not called hard life anymore
It is just a norm in the streets
Where a smile is as an expensive ointment
Hugs are like incense, only employed to perform rites
Time is a luxury everyone can afford
But are scared to waste on love
Because poverty is a disease that makes us hospitalized on beds of delusion.
Delusions not of grandeur
Delusions not of ecstasy
Delusions not of nobility.

There is a hope
A glimmer that usurps the darkness
Like moths, we move towards illumination
We smile at the harbinger of hope
We embrace the calm upsurging feel of change
Blood we refuse to shed
A tear whatsoever we refuse to let go
There is a hope
A new flame that fires our bones
Like the Sheep, we confront our Lion
We fight for what is ours
We refuse to be carried away by the Euphoria of lasciviousness
Kumbaya! with our fists held high
It is our time.

Photos and Inspiration by GB pixels