I have no choice in the matter fact the latter
I’ll do it later; awaiting patiently; the disdain’d her
I kill blood spill for my retainer – disclaimer
I left a tip for the waiter on a tip of my tip of inspiration
So thankfully anxiously lifted up my sanctity
Manically running on fragile ice and its crackling
Cackling like a hyena; a mind reader
Couldn’t even define a rhyming reason
Laughing at my train of thought; insane I thought
When that train went off the rail and what not.
Im bending like time
Just let the time pass
The trickling unwinding
Sands of time
This binding sands of time
Meandering and moving
Finding its place
At the bottom of the hour glass
Burried under time is time now
And its time now
To rewind now
I grab the hour glass and flip it
Rest In Paradise Phife, I cried when I saw you in this.
Bright as a shooting star, igniting the universe;I am born once again.
Illuminating the cosmos. Mesmerizing truths and realizations baffled before so clear now.
I was lost, trampling snow in a place unknown overthrown in self doubt and conflicted loathe.
I was self indulged in self destruction malnourished of real substance encompassed in self corruption never seeing light it’s obstructed.
But that’s past tense I’m fastened in my journey to my last quest, luminous natural like when the grass bends.
Blooming and blossoming. Autumn leaves. Calming breeze. A soldier like me only armed with peace.
Customized juxtaporized to my reborn self conducting rhymes that unlock the mind.
The infinite number is single, you in this moment a single bell ringing, it humbles.
Source: Shooting stars.
In my poetry videos…
You may notice my pupils dilated
How faded inebriated; shade is.
So here comes another; words smothering comforting
My abundant soul sunset.
Its under control? Nonsense.
Untempt me from my crazy ways
So can amaze the grace page after page; a sage
Wait a second don’t taint or take a hasty weapon
I made; It be left wrecked.
Pain is a beautiful muse;
Make mistakes and tighten my noose
So tight until I can’t breathe
Reciting poetry from the…
Deep dark ocean; where i sleep
Drowning at the bottom;
Hand holding bottle
Putting the nozzle to my guzzle
And watch as my last breathe bubbles…
To the surface; where its worded
Popping and bubbling
It can be troubling
When Im at the bottom of the ocean