The Man In The Box Poem by moemedi lynx magoro

The man in the box, born to set my world to right,
Effortlessly soon ignites the screaming in my head,
The whispers speak sign language, they are legion,
Its moments like these we seek understanding but little is understood,
The dark skies bring death to the mind and work over night and give me nightmares,
In one God we trust is what we say for a a better understanding of the world and to win favours of the public and yet we run this town,
In my mind I drift and die,
With rosary in hand for a new world order the church will cry,
Its in those dark days the lord will descend and mend the silver Lining of broken dreams,
this poem will continue.... in due time