To be the nouveau riche hark repetition
My’stiques of a long past
Falsehood of a dream complex
That love, in life is strong, can last.
There is little joy in decorum
Entrapped, the stagnant, the mosquitoes bite.
To bad she’s face-up in a river
There must be lacking a rush of light
To raise, to rise, the voice of life
One stands faces truth and does right
Finding answers to questions that cannot be found
Saturated with love challenge fate just to drownd’