from the deep wounds on her pretty flesh
her forced entry shaped what became of my future
it calls me with a voice filled with deep sorrow
i can hear her cries begging me to follow
the furore of her desire gave many men a heat
it whispers into my innocent ears
in the land of the broken mirrors
there are two types of eyes
one that can see beyond the flesh
another blinded by the hatred lights
where the ugly becomes divine
with a heart filled with pride
i choose to stick to what is mine
with a heart too big for this vessel
i choose to stick to my kind
for my kind paid a high price
of taking two steps away from Allah
my kind murder each other for pride
my kind cut the flesh of their own kind
my kind chose to feed from the devil's plate
my kind refuse to live closer to heaven
the dead eyes of guilty men
are blinded by the tears of history
I snatched it from another site I admit
