On an Isle, I was born
Deep in a sacred volcanic beautiful cave
Buried within everlasting spirit waters of life
My soul was planted, in fertile dark thin soils
There I lay, waiting for my turn to arrive
And its beaming rays, burnt its natives
On an Isle, I was born
Words and ways of my long gone ancestors
The ones who lived before I was gone
I was taught, with no questions dared to be asked
Only to be stripped away, by a traveling pirate
And its beaming rays, burnt its natives
On an Isle, I was born
Her ways and tactics, were quenchingly unique
Praised, worshiped and glorified by many
Including a great Architect, A Cadaver Architect
The one and only, who, ever lives: my creator
And its beaming rays, burnt its natives
On an Isle, I was born
Molded by those claiming to know it all
Revelations, I full-heartedly received
And reminded daily, of who truly I was
I never had to forget that
And its beaming rays, burnt its natives
Pulled from Ricocheting Regrets: Sadness in my Positivity. All Rights Reserved
Plapus 