The World Unreal
I see an Angel,
Dressed in rags, buried in tears.
He builds a home, on the solitary shores
Feeding on sorrow and sipping from a cup of passion
And that is the world unreal
History in tatters, the future in darkness
Only a breeze to cool the world
Burning with injustice, fading in corruption
To bare the curses of our ancestors
In the world unreal
The light of despair lingers
Upon the seed of imperfection
That humanity plants in pride.
And reap from in ignorance
Yet faith decides the end
Of the world unreal
Men sing hymns of lust,
Women dance to the nude tunes of immorality
The goddess of pleasure
And their children follow suit, to shine in darkness
The wind of desire blows away the foundations of truth
In the world unreal
YET the world unreal survives
That the angel in rugs might live on
Not to take but to give, Not to be fed but to feed
Not to rule but to serve
poem by Timothy muggaga
Added by Poetry Lover
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