The mixed feelings of sounds and sentiments
Groomed with a redirection to a specimen
Shown to make the meanest hearts grief
Align the simplest souls grab relief
The birds in the wilds loves the sounds and makes them
Every thing around us makes a sound like them
The sweet mixture of happiness and sorrow
blend in a single mix to make us feel hollow
It aint over when i say i want to feel your music in me
It would never be a non existence to know a theme
I lie to the sweet sound to lay my head from these aches
No one cares, i dine in the sweet embrace, all i take
SEE ME
It takes my aim and i seem to feel
Innermost lost thrill of existence
Shown with the growing lost past tense
It take a dead man no reason to worry
Big as though, tough and stiff, no fury
Gliding past my presence for your reasons to hate
My beloved needs and wants, build around my gate
chained in my world of books and tales
grey with time, bald for life, still i exhale
THE FIGHTER
Take a chance at life oh soldier
Make a trance be your bidder
Show the world your turn
Never let yourself to burn
Climb to your highest potentials
The world is your stiff orientals
Cautious of an escaped fly
willing to delve deep and high
The battle field
It aint an easy grid
You die trying
Or killed fighting
Letters from home create a glimpse
Assumption of well fare in your wimps
Set the record straight with strenght
Get even with all even you faint
Copyright ©
Owned and Written by
Henry Mitchell Chinedu Chukwunagorom