Black Paper and White pen,
Telling stories about incarceration,
Not from the eyes of the oppressed,
But from the mouth of the oppressor.
The story will never be understood until the predator tells us his story.
As he prays on the weak and vulnerable.
Lost souls and weak minds, empty bodies,
all seeking redemption.
Higher powers and limitless knowledge and for those bodies that seek pleasure in carnal knowledge.
Black Paper, white Pen.
Will the echoes of my voice be imprinted on the walls of your mind.
Will the whispers of the universe shine through life’s imperfections.
Because as time still stands the opportunist shall traverse the shadowed abyss of the world.
Black Paper and White Pen!
My mind will still wander upon mysteries,
The gap between action and intention.
Where the governments have plans but yearn for rarefaction towards civil inattention.
The people’s awareness leading to factions in this life worn upon with generosity.
Black Pen and white paper.
Too perplexed by the combination of circumstances the world pretends to withhold,
A matter too deep to uproot.
Rather inoculate the young malleable mind confined by the fear for future persecution.