In his eyes. 

As I drift through the road

i saw a young lad amid the throng

as they swarm through the streets.

Through the lens in his eyes

i saw a little boy

who is tired of being

entangled with a religion that

sold his soul to the devil.

 
In his eyes, I saw a little boy with hatred,

hatred for

those clerics who used blood as

ink to write on his tabula rasa,

now turning his white pristine mind black.

 
In his eyes, I saw a little boy

crying, yelling, wailing

in silence looking for freedom;

Freedom from smearing his

white jalamia with blood

all because of a religion.

Freedom from the fetters

that chained his mind.

Freedom to practice love.

 
-In his eyes.

 
©Zionsilas.

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