Sometimes confusion comes and knocks at your door. What do you do? Well, as for me, I put it on paper and let the pen fight the battle for me. Such is the following piece. Entitled "Confusion", because it is. Random spittles of merely unprecedented ideas being spread on paper like bread on a platter. Such thoughts have a space and they do matter. And so this I utter...
Land of the free
Land of the spirits.
The innovative mind exploration to infinit'.
Infiltrated spiritual invasions perish within a minute.
Rhymes of uncertainty live in it.
**
My mental claws draw close to yours,
of course, explodes because of my supernatural force.
The doors of mind insipidness opens to every corridor
of physical execution; obscurity is a remorse.
While thinking about this dead nation my thoughs
pause, YES! The holy spirit cures
the hypocrites and atheists to become pure.
**
In this land I buried my hands in sands of bands,
but the unrighteous only live for trends.
I spend my time meditating within a gland
of rhyme. I'm a slave of time.
My indestructible existence is prime .
Magnificence is my essence
to the way of life and intelligence is my significance.
**
My immense global speculaiton predicts a lost nation,
blind prosecution, crusifiction is needed once more.
My mentality is on tour to implore sounds from within for their manifestation.
The rife diseases roar, tearing your immune system into pieces until you can
no longer ignore its ways of nature.
Confusion leading to hormonal explosion, antibody invasion.
**
Living was a dead man's mistake.
Our lives are now at stake.
There's only one path to heaven, wreath.
This idea still obscures our mental vividness.
The curse of the aftermath blesses the revival of our death.
**
The spiritual confusion dwell' within our doomed vision,
under a spell, well some souls will forever burn in hell.
Humanity smell' in the land of the spirits.
Respect is earned but recently seems to have been banned.
My impact is well far beyond the universe and it's boundaries.
**
**
The sphinx exists as a walking dead,
I'd rather die instead of living a nightmare; anguished, I'm mad.
My head is red, existing only in dreams is bad.
Like draculars I feed my intellect with bread.
I bleed intelligence with flared visions of the flesh.
A bash of monstors crash the smiledon
and cupid snores while the spiritual confusion roars.
**
Pentagon and hectagon impregnate each other
when the confusion is on. My heart is torn,
mothers wear dignity in a form of an apron.
My emortality is born, integrity is shorn.
Fathers, brothers, lovers and others are scorn
from my immortality and had sworn to kill my soul.
But reincarnation is my destined goal.
Insipidness is gone, my mentality is worn by every creature.
**
**
Look at the dot in the middle.
**
My intricate hypnosis is with ya.
Mental paralysis disclocate your features.
Teachers and preachers give birth to my knowledge.
Superiority blossom and insanity is common in
the land of the spirits, gravity has zero effect.
Spirits have impact in our lives, in fact I interact with
ancestors. Confused invasion of the hereafter makes
sisters inhale blisters. Whispers of rhymes is what I inhale,
every time.
**
Land of the spirit, land of the free.
Rid yourself of earthly limits, come walk with me.
©Vincent Mbatha (
