Baronhawk's Nest

They say that roti is roti,
But none have perhaps tried,
The canai of banjiri and roti of bengali,
For once you lips kiss the kari,
Three days kept warm and spicy,
Nothing I tell you really,
Can make your life very,
Tingling and so... so... gasssy.

Seratonin they said,
that temporary chemical high,
in cupid arrow's wake
to a heart that once is shy.

It seeps into the marrows,
dwelve deep into lungs,
a percaloting sated flavour,
that sifts onto the tongue.

Sweetly it danced,
luring the eyes alight,
upon the smiles of lips,
unto the lilt of hips.

And through the whitish wisps,
her chancy dancy trysts,
soft subtle racy gists,
blowing silky salacious kiss.

Alas she flits and flies,
beyond where rules apply,
into the frame of time,
where I am no longer I.

Bila dengar, derap sepatu
gerun seru, teriakan soldadu
bila riuh, keriuk rantai belenggu
bangunlah wahai, rakan mediaku.

Hayun kaki, hentakan nan padu
Geramm rasa, dada menderu
kita tuju, revolusi baru
bina kebebasan, media Malaysiaku.

Dalam diam, membakar sekam
semangat kental, kita sulam
ayuh bangun, ayuhlah serang
Ini masa kita, bina gelombang.

Dalam Geramm, berganding semua
alternatif, atau arus perdana
elektronik, cetak, online jua
kita media, bebas bersama.