I am no poet;
A poet’s memory is a golden vessel
Harbouring senseless witty tales of uninvented truths;
And his tongue,
A long uncircumcised knotted lake of fire
Providing perpetual flames of inglorious ingenuity
That demands great dexterity to untie.
A poet’s mind is a cistern of stable sound insanity
Basketing awkward lexis in long gestation to germinate.
His unblemished knowledge is limitless
His words ingrained on ancient golden tablets of truth.
A poet is no deaf, but always dumb
For his outlandish words make no sense
Yet he’s the ordained prophet of all times
Who foresees the morrow of the yesterday
You are today hoping for.
He’s the wizard remotely manipulating your mind
Since you drink from his deep shores of dialectics.
A poet never dies; his age is infinite.

I am no poet;
So to make you crystally comprehend
Let me descend from the spirit
And unfold the tongue of conscience.
I am only an advocate of change
Bearer of the message;
Message of the truth;
The bitter truth of bile
Attached to the liver of a rotten society.
It’s a wheel of truth set in motion
To rest not, till the desired change
Is seen shining bright in the sky.
It’s the truth to heal society
Of her beautiful stinking cankers.
I have no desire to rest now
Since the ignition in me is yet to wake.
I share no one’s sentiments
Since hypocrisy is the light
To your weak and wobbly feet.

I am no poet;
I am only preacher of the gospel;
The authentic defender of faiths
The true observer of Mark 16:15;
The tongue that whips and strips
Bare the uncensored morality;
The resurrector of dead beliefs;
The filter of all filths.

I am no poet;
I only stand for truth and justice.
I hate your experiments of settling for peace
I love no peace for it’s so fragile.
I hate you who thirst for peace
Yet assassinate justice.
Give me justice you poor beggar
And peace will be your portion.

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