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My flesh weak and my soul apart.

My brother dead another seeking vengeance to a cruel world.

Who am I to rebuke the time square of death?

My ancestors taken back into time.

A world filled with anger, is all I know.

Take yee thay flesh broken into half.

Speak for me my desires, for my tongue bends in to choke me dead.

Struck me dead before the night wizards appear in their dusty coats.

I fear the unknown as the cemetery yearns for my bones.

The grave can’t wait for its crunchy treasure.

It calls for me in a distance, yet it sounds in close proximity.

Ooh! Struck me dead but before I crumble down,

Wedge my fingers and share with many who seek supremacy

For mans power lay in his hands.





I count days that become months

I count the tracks we made

I count the days we smiled

I count the days I lied to her

I count the memories we failed to treasure

They were the greatest months ever

Magnificent foot prints ever made

Smiles that brighten the sky and unsullied the air we breathe.

Lies that finally wrecked, the months, tracks and smiles.

Then fine reminiscences amounted to zilch.

Lol. Life


I am a stranger

Death strikes and exist with no stone turned.

Sickened flesh by the wind.

Reality lashes insight.

Cold blooded bodies, in reality we mourn.

Chapters of the bible are undesired.

Misconception of reality to those who despise

We are lectured souls of constitutions

Boundaries lay free in our eyes.

No cross road to eternity.

We are just souls yearning for the grave.

We are slaves to mortality.


Dear bastard.


Child of no father

Child of no mother

A bastard you are without inquiry

Chased into civilization to pleasure judgment

They verbalize with their faces cast down to the ground

 My friend, you live denial without rebellion.

Soreness is all you have recognized.

A steady home to rest your head is a search in vain.


 With all the undesired pain and tears,

plunk lofty be fond of a soldier, fighting a merciless battle of rejection.

As though not seen, your families will knowledge the contrary of your misery.

Good luck my bastard ally, child without blood relation


Uncle Buck


Third day as i face a dawn of a magnificent future i haven’t slept nor eaten.heart beat an order of the day.reality lashes kindness yet inside i die and yearn for purified perfection.they speak light of my decoy subject,a dreadful alien barring in mind forgiveness.honestly my heart melts as tears retrace emotional battles i fought and lost.engraved inside my mind deep within buried in the sands of time are numbers known to hold judgement.2301 the gate pass to every wound that i could not bare but left behind for me to pleasure agony.107 a number of lost virginity as anger manifested,proving human kind wrong of biblical dis owner.1792 a combination to my mothers womb behold no lies foretold.my heart sick and buried. Sickening reality of mankind brutality and slaughter.


people becoming instinct.we die like frogs set to die in water increasing temperature.as it adapts to the heat its tragic death awaits. in short all bad stuff is becoming cool and we don’t seem to notice. u think u cool smoking dope n yu think yu so cool getting layed at college behind mamas back.well am sorry i dont adapt to heating temperature i run. swag aint that cool they try to adapart n make it cool so they die asap. big boys dnt wanna praise the lord coz they think it aint cool.well how many of you regret being cooler than others and still dnt have peace in their heads


I see answers

To questions humanity and mankind consider literature.

How unkind is the tax man making a living?

In need to make you understand the unknown

Poetry is just a simple explanation of the inner essence

Defined as the inner man.

Theory has explanations

Destiny has reduction of time to a desired destination.

Time a measure of what we treasure and mourn.

Death a symbol of no power to creation

The rule of simplicity is mastered by our anger.

Judgment is what you hold!

Deep in your mind filled with questions unmanned

Judge me but before that let him seat on his wealthy throne.



If only life would be flipped

Imagine what it holds behind

Away from this suffering

Far from this faked life

There as we imagine

No tears, metal bombs nor flames

A tank of ammunition would be a tank of life

Every fired bullet would be a blessing of life

A world turning upside down

What can man do?

As they stare at the end of days approaching

But this is how it is on the other side

His angels ready to take over

We are just man staring in kindness

It’s sad poetry has been mysteriously reserved on the subject of after life

Just silent on the pages of the other side

Let’s flip on the other side!

Experience and fear.


I used to breathe music

Now it’s only a breathing lament of discord

I used to have glitter, but what glitters deceived my eyes

As time passed into vanity I dinned with reality

I failed to realize time kept turning

And the speed lane between fantasy and reality,

made me pleasure the holiness of crises.

At only 150km per hour

I died a fragile incident.

My funeral was joy of custom-made hostility

For only the judge knew my misgiving dispute

As I tasted the maturity of pain