I FORNICATE MY STATE WHILE MY MIND RETALIATES,
I WITNESS GUILT UPON MY FACE ,
BLOODY RAZORBLADES BETWEEN STICKY FINGERTIPS…WHY CAN I NOT RELATE?,
I MEAN PENETRATE THE THOUGHTS,
DOMINATE THE STAGE,
CAPTIVATE THE AUDIENCE OF LIFE,
ON THE SILVER SCREEN…MIRRORED,
THE FAKE IMAGES,
DARK WOVEN INTO THE SPARK OF LIGHT.

STOLEN PIECES OF SELF,
MUTILATED…CONSEQUENCE FELT,
SELF HATRED IS EPIDEMIC,
RELATION BREAKDOWN,
SUB PARTICIPATION IN THE REALMS OF SEPARATION,
ONE STEP CLOSER TO THE EDGE OF SEGRAGATION ,
SOLITARY IN MY HEAD NOW,
DEVOUT TO THE LET DOWN.

ROUND AND ROUND I GO ON THE MERRY GO SHOW,
TELL NOBODY…NO…SOMEBODY SAY IT ISN’T SO,
WHY DID MY MOTHER HAVE TO GO?,
TROUBLE IN MY MENTAL,
THE SICKNESS TO AND THROW ,
BITING THROUGH THE THICKNESS,
MY SPEAKING WRISTS WROTE THIS.

MY HEART IS A FIRE BREATHING VICTIM BORN INTO A PRISON,
AFRAID OF ISM,
TRAPPED INSIDE A PRISM OF SELF HATRED AND FORCED UPON RELIGION,
WHICH SEEMS TO BE OUTDATED,
WITH A DISTORTED VISION,
AMAZING STORY BOOKS,
SPIRITUAL JACKANORY,
GOD FEARING POOR PEOPLE SEARCHING FOR GLORY.

TELEVISED WAR STAGED,
THE PROPHECY GORY,
THE VIDEO TAPE PLAYED,
RECORDED THE GUILTY,
THE INNOCENT FILTHY,
NO ACCEPTANCE OF RESPONSIBILITY,
REPENTANCE IS REDEMPTION.

KNOWING THE DARK TO KNOW THE LIGHT,
YOU MUST FIRST QUESTION BEFORE YOU CAN ANSWER RIGHT,
YOU MUST BE A WORD IN THE SERMON OF LIFE,
NOT YOUR HERO SNORTING LINES IN A PARAGRAPHPARAGRAPH OF SPITE.

HE WHO MARKS THE PAPER COMMUNICATES WISDOM,
THE ONE WHO MARKS THE SOUL SPEAKS SPIRITUALISM ,
PHILOSOPHISING LYRICAL TERRORISM,
BUT NOT LIKE A TYRANT,
TORMENTED TWISTED SOUL,
SHADOWED VISION OF CRUELTY.

SPIRIT COLD…BEGUILE…DENIAL…BEAUTY…DEFILE…UGLY…SOLD,
TRUTH BE TOLD THE SAME STORY OF OLD,
MAN WANTS POWER,
COMMAND BOLD,
MAN BUILDS A TOWER AND SURROUNDS HIMSELF WITH GOLD AND AT NIGHT,
THE TOWER LIGHT…SCOURS BRIGHT,
DOWN ON MANS SUFFERING DOMINION,
SIGHT BEHOLD OPINION,
MAN IN THE TOWER ALIENATED AND SELFISH,
PARANOID AND HELPLESS ,
SELF DESTRUCTIVE,
ANGERED AND HOPELESS.

THE WORDS UNFOLD LIKE HUNGRY ROACHES,
APPEARING FROM CRACKS ACROSS THE CONCRETE OF THE HOMELESS,
THE DEAD AND DISOWNED,
THE ARTISTIC TORCH BURNS BRIGHT FOR ALL THE SPIRITS OF THE NIGHT,
THE RESTLESS…INFECTED…DEJECTED…POISONED,
DREAMING OF A CURE ,
TRAPPED INSIDE DESIRE’S LURE,
NO THOUGHTS PURE,
NO MIND BLENDING,
STILL NOT VERY SURE.

VERY FEW SPEAK ,
ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER IN THE BOWED HEADS OF TOLERANCE AND IN THE WEAK,
THE STITCHING AROUND THEIR SHADOWS SHOW WHERE THEIR SOULS LEAK,
FEELINGS BLEED INTERNALLY THEN JOINING WITH THE SEED…ETERNALLY.