The last prayer

Not like a usual
Cold march day
Sunshine seeps through my
Scratched withered skin
My reflection
In the broken pane of my window
Of an old aged man
Dark skinned and thin

Not one of those old cold days
Tis one,s differenrt
Sunshine smiling faces
Peaceful Newzealand races

I run down the lanes
Of muddy christchurch,s ways
Against the wild current
Of even wilder air

I keep my wet feet
On jade green layer
As i kneel down
For my last Friday prayer

I make my last prayer
For a world kinder and fair

Where no cast and creed
Where no colour or breed

Will ever block the way
Of sweet freedom,s ray

And go out
To meet ,
Those devilish eyes of fury
Bold dark and blurry

The moment sizzles cold
Dark brazen and bold

I make my heart to curse him
To break bruise and crush him

But Alas my heart
It sinks down in symphathy
In sweet songs of harmony

My dark skin, his white
My black eyes, his green
My anger , his hate

But all in the moment
My anger disappears
In wild wild air
And wait for his hate too
To crush open and break too
But oh...
It stays there

My disappointed heart
Cold straight and harsh

His hate firing through the air
I wait for it to stay
But oh it doesn,t stay
It sticks and hit my heart
Blood bruised and harsh

The love in me retorts none other
than just staying cold and mutter

Hello brother!
Hello brother!

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