ILLUSION

who plays my song better
the birds by the day or
the roaches by night?
who holds my pain better?
my brain to the pain or
my wound to the cut?
who holds my life better
my might to my work or
my luck to my fate?

when the drums to the strings
and the music that you sing
both makes me dance;
dance to the rhythm
then my joy to the theme
not the drums to the strings
nor the joy that you hold
when you refuse to sing
without the strings

and if there be pain in the gain
why not merry in the loss,
smile on the cross,
nor joy in the loss?
and if there be friction in all force
and gain hatred from old folks
which then is my religion
is it the pain or the gain
for what gain do I to the loss
than this loss to Christ?

© Robins 2015

HATED BY MY LOVE...

Am dying for her love
and dinning with death
I cant call for help
cant say, I've been blessed
with a heart, thus wretched
and broken, and bled
am bleeding to death
am pleading in my bed
am bleeding, been vexed
because am hated by my love,
and loved by my hatred.

Love's a bed of roses they say
thorns are stems of roses, to say
hearts pricked and pieced to bleed
oozed and coated in fragrance of sting
am bleeding and pleading for dozes to get
who's entrance love's the gate?
when am hated by my love 
and loved by my hatred

Plead with me not,
for you breath with me not
lean on me no more,for you sleep with me not
dance with me not,
to the love song you sing
and when love sublimes again in this thin sky
why shall I again to it try?
when am hatred by my love
and loved by my hatred?





© Robins 2015