My poems

Begone were those faces
Through the tide of times,
But all left, with little traces
Though it was no crime.

Was there a time
When no face was strange,
But I wasn't game
To accept the reality I hate.

Reality? None stood right,
Everyone bipartite.
All they were, were-
FALSE FACES.

Beautiful faces, worthless faces-
All kinds of faces,
But all a bilge, corrupt
By a filthy drop of greed.

But all this, to sustain
A uniqoe balance between
Good and Evil.
But....Is the balance being kept?