In his eyes As I drift through the road i saw a young lad amid the throng as they swarm through the streets. Through the lens in his eyes i saw a little boy who is tired of being entangled with a religion that sold his soul to the devil. In his eyes, I saw a little boy with hatred, hatred for those clerics who used blood as ink to write on his tabula rasa, now turning his white pristine mind black. In his eyes, I saw a little boy crying, yelling, wailing in silence looking for freedom; Freedom from smearing his white jalamia with blood all because of a religion, Freedom from the fetters that chained his mind, Freedom to practice love.