All “By Accident”...
Black on gray — they smear the world, no doubt,
A madhouse scene in shades of drought.
Lies march loud, a stench in air,
Breeding fear and deep despair.
This mad “art” — where monsters feed,
Fools and crazies grow like weeds.
Selection’s task — foul undead,
......
I know my people.
I've seen their suffering and their tears,
Their anger and their fears.
I've seen them work amongst the mills,
In cotton and sugar fields.
Working with bleeding hands,
And refusing to give up then.
While tortured with whips and ropes,
And they still believe in hope.
I know my people.
......
It is the magic of night,
It is the fire lovers ignite!
It is a secret within a heart;
And how lovers connect far apart.
It is fathomless ebony eyes;
And the evening sunset glorifies!
Secret passages of lovers' escape-
Familiarity in its black cape.
......
Broken glass shattered on open floor,
Glass thrown out the door.
Broken glass that breaks more the lighter you tread,
Glass that doesn’t fit society’s dress.
Broken gelass,
Broken glass that people admire like art,
Glass with pieces made to be scattered apart.
Broken glass that longs to be whole,
Being black is being born into a broken mould.
My neighborhood is flanked by terraced iron mountains
Dark clouds seemed to surround him
The river water is also murky black
They say they are victims of urbanization
A city that always beats 24 hours a day
Its activities have been bound in a labyrinth
Modernity displays the face of emptiness
I, who live there, find it very, very difficult to meet and chat with honesty
......
I know my people.
I've seen their suffering and their tears,
Their anger and their fears.
I've seen them work amongst the mills,
In cotton and sugar fields.
Working with bleeding hands,
And refusing to give up then.
While tortured with whips and ropes,
And they still believe in hope.
I know my people.
......
All “By Accident”...
Black on gray — they smear the world, no doubt,
A madhouse scene in shades of drought.
Lies march loud, a stench in air,
Breeding fear and deep despair.
This mad “art” — where monsters feed,
Fools and crazies grow like weeds.
Selection’s task — foul undead,
......
Broken glass shattered on open floor,
Glass thrown out the door.
Broken glass that breaks more the lighter you tread,
Glass that doesn’t fit society’s dress.
Broken gelass,
Broken glass that people admire like art,
Glass with pieces made to be scattered apart.
Broken glass that longs to be whole,
Being black is being born into a broken mould.
My neighborhood is flanked by terraced iron mountains
Dark clouds seemed to surround him
The river water is also murky black
They say they are victims of urbanization
A city that always beats 24 hours a day
Its activities have been bound in a labyrinth
Modernity displays the face of emptiness
I, who live there, find it very, very difficult to meet and chat with honesty
......
Black onyx night, of the pearlescent moon,
A velvety backdrop for rare diamond stars,
And nocturnal tunes all the nights of June,
Black opal night, converging on ruby Mars!
Black pearl night, flowering peace's dream,
Black diamond luster, far away from the day,
Obsidian night, with bold touches of cream,
Smooth and luxurious, and beauty's hideaway!