It's Love


Segregation reformed by lips laced with loquacious words,

Promoting the definition of separated girls and segregated worlds.
Diffusing through hierarchical halls, paneled with the predecessors of freedom;
A peoples’ freedom comes at a cost equivalent to birds:
Frequently flying through powerful minds, yet scarcely impacting the floor.

My fellows howl at stubborn injustices directed towards the sun,

A warm hue streaked with pinks and blues, yet hidden beneath a field of cars.
A modern plantation — trapping its freethinkers within generation after generation.

Choices which when forced behind bars.
Shielded from the sights of sagacious spirituals,
Who forever cling to the clashing ideologies of decades extinct,
Of Leviticus and Genesis; Romans and Kings,

Refuting the embrace of rotating orbs, which shout and scream the necessity for more.


Contradictory and offensive, sinful and submissive.
Unnatural, debatable, obscene.

By whose voice whispers accusatory murmurs,

Charging the masses with perverted sex,
Catalyzed by The Coming of Days or the ignorance of God?

By whose voice demands in auditoriums of the “educated”

That those without religion must stand down in submission, and forfeit their rights as a human being?
To concede to outdated beliefs, and to never question.
To never think.

It isn’t a choice, it isn’t a lifestyle, it isn’t a disease. 


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