Heart pounds to hear it's sound.
The sound submerged in pollutants of our time.
Heart pounds it's beat in synchronous with the moments,
so it seems.
the mysterious moments of life, love, and it's feat
comes with it's sweets and deceits.
Heart pounds to hear it's sound.
Oh, how I wish the heart to sing, dance, and
keep away from the prance of the controlling and fooling political beasts,
yet I find the freedom slipping away to slime political rhymes to render
security, minimum wage, and a dime.
It is our time when wars had taken a mass murderous incline.
Atom bombs compete with more treacherous killing machines, the human minds.
Heart pounds the mind's sounds in the color triage of thoughts
enslaved by mass media hounds of our time.
Heart pounds, pounds, and pounds in search for it's sound.
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