godalavita

I adore the war in your words, I seek the alliteration, Clusters of spectacles, While you sit there wasting. An image painted with a translucent touch, Movement in a dimension I can never muck, Yet the mosaic of your life comes only in black and white, A hint of grey-scale, then out goes the lantern light. You are poor in physical dimension, But rich in mental dilation, As you carry this burden you are offered no solace, A troubled writer just finding his place, I am just assembling the facts but there is no case, This unseen talent will be a statue, Defaced.

My mind, A quench for thought crafts a dryness that dissolves over a day, The demand hides in plain sight, But I still try to keep it at a bay, The curse of free will obtrudes my belongings, Feeling mugged with everything at my side, What will I gain from it? Life. A puzzle without a tactic, I feel Confusion in Confucius, Faith becoming religulous, Age coming from protracted abortion, Destruction carrying pressurised suction, It's a matter of mind, We all have a play.

I aint no scientist So Im not gonna stretch this With any emphasis But what is mycosis? It sounds so ferocious Like I better be cautious But the feeling too nauseous Trapped in a metamorphosis They call me Dr. Atrocious! Man, they all loafers I'm such a boaster Y'all coasters Acting all Hollywood posters I'm all about.. Iraqi soldiers! Blowing out bombs While you nuns gettin  number ones They asking Man whats wrong? Dude this look like a song? I aint got a story to tell Just a tale from hell Cos that's where Im at That's how I rap They devil's on my earlobe whispering What's that? Nah I aint a rat I'm just an Englis

Let's escape this inception, Find our own direction, It's interference versus natural selection, With the arrangement resembling an infection, Some may hide through deflection, Some stand for election, All are run by atoned affection. We are encapsulated by this correction, Covertly fighting for detection, Bridging traction through linear-interpolation, Hoping to create crashing waves of adoration, Gasping for the correct equation, Rarely finding the elation, Instead we travel a malignant path to unify ourselves in a foreign nation.

Vinder, A name like so many, But one of a kind, A kindred spirit, Yet a converging message they find. An abundant loss for many, Scarce gain to a few, The power remains on the passenger side, Everything else is subdue, Twas purely a curtain call, Shouting for you. There is no encore, Just a disappearing act, They remain mystified, Scrambling over fact over fact. This still seems so fictitious, Like a terrified knight's tale, They sigh, Now five years to the day, Never will they be short of a cry. Be kind Vinder. Let the wicked weather be swept aside, They still have countless days, Albeit with a dented pride.

I feel the need for complexity, Simplicity is encircled in weakness to me, I will write this damning self-prophesising anthology, Without being tamed by the terrified id in me, You have lost all life now let the super reside, For it is he who is in power, That has the right to devour, I am God, I am the saviour, the malevolent, and the sinner, Witness my behaviour as I cry tears of a victor, My light is so indistinct that it eludes most senses, The darkness will prelude all human defences, I feel nothing but despise, Find the truth in my eyes, I am a prophet, Make of it as you want.

All I ever want is to break free, I have a life waiting out there for me, My disillusion is mere devolution, It's my time to shine, For I have little time to claim what is mine, My selfish tracks will support many acts, But with the circus you'll all fade, Go home and leave this renegade. My eye is always on the prize, You'll be mine, I have seen many times that same sign, A compass with no arrow, A traitor with no allegiance, A stopwatch without the stop, I cannot believe this, It is ticking, I am brittle now, I am thinking, Is it all over now?

His death came in 96'. He was a rolling stone crack baker, His life repeatedly raped as the sentences passed by, Lifting child hood memories that could make the Brooklyn streets seem shy, The Friday beatings were to perfect an inmate's Sunday golf drive, His colour often changed, He stood at neither side of the racial divide, A loner in all his years, He learns he was mistaken, But stays away of being eternally forsaken, Cometh last September breeze he could finally awaken, Open his eyes, He has now no disguise, Not anymore a cocky Caucasian, It's poetic irony he carries the name of the son, Tested and crucified, He often laug

His eyes are round and swollen, Almost elongated, Has been many a year that the fire has all but faded, Emotion is strife but only for him to see, A life just living to end at a plea, A bargain that cannot be reckoned, For he has not the strength to succumb, A hope in a wish, That is all that he can fare. Once she came by his side in prayer, For just the heat made it all clear, A resounding clause to his expired contract, A recurring ring rising to a rhetoric question, An euphoria which made it again all well, Enlightened by the glistening sprinkles of sparkling spell. A soft surge in his eyes, Before his almighty blows out t

The snowball gathers its flakes one by one, Allegiant forces can be harder undone, A mesh of sleet is all that shall become. Parting gravity is our utmost fight, One which provokes an enduring delight, A shimmering sparkle against the arctic air, Can a snowflake ever guest appear? Dissect its ends with a Spartan’s spear? Or does it become the one that tried, Crucified and simply tossed aside. I can see the future now, Snowball I have made my decision you cow.