Written by:

Zerayn D.

I say my truths! My eyes are open,
if not heard, I scribe them with my sharp pen,
though it is sharp, it does not kill,
it does not hurt a home, it bends but won’t break will.

It does not cost someone’s bread and butter,
I write to speak louder,
I write with words that conceal things,
yet unveil the unwanted, uncovering hidden stings.

They panicked, they stood for defense,
they call themselves integrity, standing tense,
but they ran away when I utter the beginning of the story,
afraid of truth, afraid of what strips false glory.

He wanted to brush it off, keep his image clean,
he denies his dirty laundry, unseen,
so I grab my pen, and scribe this despicable scene,
for he is such a timid everyman in between.

The words roared, they panicked again,
he took down the sheep’s clothing, dropped the pretense then,
and responded with defense, desperate to amend,
he wanted to steal my pen, to bring it to an end.

He dragged Baldrick into his plans, tight and grim,
Baldrick was scared; he knew it was not right within,
he was stiff, conflicted, caught in a bind,
yet forced to follow this everyman, timid in mind.

He remained undisturbed, though inwardly perturbed,
he knows my pen, the truth I’ve preserved,
in silence and mundane oath he stays,
supporting in subtle, shadowed ways.

They wanted to rewrite the narrative,
to mark me with the scarlet letter, declarative,
but the man of diamonds appeared, clear,
he spoke in determination, drawing near.

He went down his throne, stood with me in the background,
he expressed his battle cry, a piercing sound,
he wanted the scarlet letter out of me,
for in his eyes, I am innocent, I am free.
I am his beloved, in me he believes,
in truth we stood, yet almost bereaved.

We appease the suspenseful silence in air,
Baldrick was nervous, anxious in despair,
the timid everyman hides from sight,
but cannot hide his dirty laundries in light.

He suffered the striking of a man in a golden mask,
a heavy spanking, a revealing task,
and the man of diamonds grew afraid,
as shadows deepened and courage frayed.

The golden mask and the everyman share dread,
they tremble at the name that spreads,
for there is also a Jay Gatsby behind,
so Baldrick has no choice following like a blind.

So much fear and doubt in the air stays,
there was no more feeling of safe days.
Everyone is in doubt, nobody dares to speak,
nobody wants to move, all pretend to be meek.

And learning this, the man of diamonds breaks in fear,
retreats to his throne, disappears,
seals the island of diamonds tight,
hiding away from truth and light.

I am left in space, calling afar,
to ethereal spirits beyond each star,
some responded, but their galaxies are far,
they hear my voice, yet distant they are.

They cried over my pleas in silent skies,
though unseen hands cannot reach my cries,
my universe drifts beyond their domain,
yet still they echo my truth, my pain.

They send waves of strength, they spark the night,
they stir the gases, spread the light,
to tell the planets, far and wide,
that I am innocent, though denied.

That I am wronged, yet standing still,
while the man of diamonds bends to will,
he must save himself, he must withdraw,
afraid of truth, afraid of law.

They wanted to rewrite the narrative still,
to make me wear the scarlet at will,
but I knew the man of diamonds had prayers,
and watchers beyond in cosmic layers.

The spirits of galaxies watch and send,
strength so I may not break or bend,
and the creator of all, who sees each part,
spoke these words into my heart:

“I choose what they read in you.
I am the author of your life, it’s true.
Though they wish to tamper your manuscript,
it is by My hand that it is scripted.

I decide what will be published, what remains,
and I will rewrite their future… and your pains.”