TORN TO BITS

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Trust none but the dead
Most exist to get the head.
Silence all forms of integrity
None will appreciate this sincerity.
Relieve all faith in friends
They’re only true as fiends.
Rather rot in solitary confinement
Than to be taken through a broken
refinement.
Flip flop beyond every attachments
All is built on selfish
accomplishments.
Doomed is the other day
Like racks filled with hay.
A rifle to the head of faith
Right now all that matters is
fate.
Gone are the days of trust
Once dipped, now condemned to
rust.
One; wished to pat the back
Bangs it with hurtful pack.
If gibberish is the way
Jargon will surely pay.
Enough of brokenhearted souls
Emanating from demons termed
friends. Such owls!
Disguised in colorful selfishness
Dispersed with hatred of
brokenness.
Be watchful of the lurking enemies
They bring wrath of no remedies.
written by Tokede Daniel
danatoks@gmail.com
NEW BOOK ALERT

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