Hymn corrected

God creates equal,
that is what i last heard.
The world dead in its sequel;
Le colt you sick bastard.
Catalyzing intimidation the world mastered.
Inclination with pop music we plastered.
Broken orphans stand on the horizon;
Senate seats only the guilty wizen.

Prickly red Afro, all wet and grim,
his abhor once raw now ripen.
The space within his face with vex to brim;
his love now tastes of poison.

Taller than tower of Paris,
she whispers a hymn politically corrected.
Swaying as the sand gently caress,
she maims this empire resurrected.
The hymn, in time, will get interrupted;
For this organized system itself is corrupted.
Across the globe, nothing ever does vary;
Lone men, on missions, with them hate they carry.

Published by Samartha Ingle

Game designer and writer

11 thoughts on “Hymn corrected

    1. Deanjean I am glad to hear that you like my poetry but don’t sell yourself short I am amateur with no true credibility but having read “I am not a damsel in distress !” and others I must say you are a remarkable wordsmith. Have you been published before ?

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Thank you, you’re too kind…I’ve had a few bits published, but in all honesty I’m always looking to make my verses better because they seem quite disjointed. I’ve been looking through your poetry and I enjoy reading it. It weaves the known with a little breathing space in between, I really like how the sentences are allowed to breathe.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Thanks, it is always humbling to witness someone other than yourself look beyond the shoddy writing to recognise and understand your work. And its true we must always make an effort towards making ourselves better at our craft.

        Liked by 1 person

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