I am a sheppard for all these wolves in sheeps clothing
combustable right brain riddled with poetry
a confounded sense of the profound obligotory
my stories our worthy of glitz,glamour and glory
but I reside in the obituaries of the timid,tame and tourturing
restoring the fact that normal executions bore me
my dreams warn me
I was born to bleed as a revolutionary
wether thats measured in word or body counts is really no concern to my movements or whereabouts
no warnings will sufice,only mourning threw the night
light shines threw the razor blade slits of the blinds,this mind is a kite
magnetic for the thoughts of a collected high
try as I may,I still long for the day where my princess is by myside
and the streets are stormed by the smiles of the enlightened
who are not afraid to be alive
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