My Pen

It's not the contents of this pen that cloud my mind It's the suffering and the pain of my fellow human beings That gives me sleepless nights I am pierced by painful memories from my childhood I am disturbed by the growing cancer in our streets Society is hopelessly holding on delusions Promises made by vampires that feed on their daughters and sons Selling them lies from the garden of wickedness I am broken into pieces of light To shed light into the deepest wounds And bring healing to the hopeless and fearful My pen is not a political tool To address the nation or the world My pen is a spiritual knife To undress the darkness To unveil the path of Love And ignite the fire of hope My pen does not hold hate or damnation It's the truth that will set you free My pen is not a weapon against reality or injustice It's a scissor that shreds the wicked mind And opens the channel of awareness My pen is clearly not diluted by evil spells It's composed of the particles of light To illuminate the heart and pave the way to everlasting life My pen is a molecule on the fabric of existence That holds life together And brings hope to each and every heart My pen is not a hospital or church house It's the spirit of God that paves the way I am drunk from the cup of His Love ©