Trees cry to the touch of their wind,
Plagues that angels cannot rescind.
Cats are possessed in cahoots with the Bat,
We’re back in business, the battle must start.

Tis not a lie that our fathers fought back
With juju, Voodoos and dogs that don’t bark,
But they were crushed, regrets to tell;
The mighty the meek, on the ground they fell.

My hometown, the devourer of stars.
Show your face, I’m gonna kick your ass.
I’ve been told you gather your witches to censor me,
Your king the Bat will fall to WHO lives in me.

Hear o ye who have run!
Return home, the curses have torn.
You may rule the West or blossom in the East,
Your home is your pride unless you’re a beast.

-Lord eBay


6 Comments Add yours

  1. I- read says:

    Beautiful piece. ”Your home is your pride unless your a beast”, well said. Well done.

    Liked by 3 people

  2. Over the years, I’ve lived in a few places but my home remains the same place I cherish – interwoven memories and desires. Bitter sweet, yet it’s home where am complete.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. lordebayism says:

      I guess there’s more to the meaning of “home” than where we live. Sometimes when you sit alone with a mug of beer in hand, you find yourself thinking about friends who would’ve permanently escaped your mind if not that you had a childhood together… At home! Bitter-Sweet, yet, where we’re complete.

      Liked by 2 people

  3. I really like this!!


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