I have so much to say and no time to say it.
Living in a land which hates one another and lacks justice.
I bare my chest to the persecutions and take the lashings on my bare back.
Wide open they scream out with red smeared lips of pain.
My back aching and arched like a wolf howling at the moon.
There’s no time to stand still or even time to write ones will.
For who knows what will become of that which is or once was.
In the deep percussions of every heart beat there stands emptiness.
Waiting for something…
waiting for something…
waiting…
No time…
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