Hmm, imagine if ye lo at me,
As if thee expect me to knowest of thine explanation,
Then he goes to thou, saying like,
What offers thee as a reader who comes and read,
Such easy words, cheap, not so expensive,
But ye understand is the most important, breakfast,
Lunch, and supper, aye, know thine limit,
Oh, give times to those who die for you to fill your stomach,
Then ye sayest to me, what saith thee to me such words?
Well, the slaughterhouses for all who their stomach such baby cry.
Well, excuse the words that define ye, but I want the world,
To be safe so that our family, our friends, and our generations,
That all may rest happily ever after, but she says like,
When will it? The world is going to try to open thine eyes,
To see all the things all try to ignore,
But they said, beware of all the Miracle Creator’s creation,
For they have had been praying to our Holy Creator,
Forever, ever, and ever, but thee might sayeth, how thee knowest
Such words to novelise out of thine mouth, thy thought,
But well, I have seen so much of living people voice out their thoughts,
Then ye ‘ve no right to stop one another, yes, their words,
Let the words come out to the sky so all may hear, see, and accept,
For every rain will pour out its deed, hence, who can a man or a woman
Stop all the weathers, aye, all the climates? But if one day they such can
Then might I say to myself, not you nor her nor him nor anyone else,
But for me, myself, alone just my thoughts that say, our Holy Creator,
The Miracle Creator shall return and finish what our Holy One started.
© Ismael Mansoor
This Engrained Heart 