The Colour Of Grief 

With  every word I perched  my name on the wall of history

It is our story labelled on the teeth of fire

Believe me, I try to wear it light but it wears dark instead

Carrying this grief of a thousand pounds 

When blood is used as  ink in this poem

And tears is used as the fuel,  pain echoes loudly 

through my veins when my inside is darker than the coat of the devil

my balls are wrapped around the rings of fire

the sensation of bullets seems to be the holy 

Where guns and bullets are being used as spoon and forks in this harsh world

I  drawn and cave my feet into fire

A communal thoughts left out of a bouquet 

this rotten pain roars through my vein

like lions in the African jungle

And am drawn Into fire like flies are drawn to feces 

This pain echoes loudly through my veins

And as we end this chapter in monologue of grief 

we covered our eyes so this bloody mixture wouldn’t consume us