I hung my head
upon this throne of dope
switches we're the last thing that mattered
bellowing laughter through a cloud of smoke.
modern masters of craft & spoken word
laid in wake
breaks in the murmurs of modern scope
toxic waste in the fabric of time
splices of hope when beauty came to mind
tattoos to remind me once I felt alive
I was loved...I was mine.
finding this inner strength was forces which bind
climbing to another dimension
a different time.
this is how I choose to die...to rise...writhe
mind the rope
the length of the spirit...how it cant be broken
or how it becomes.