“A child of love that’s unconditional,
give me your heart, and have my soul as yours.
Let go of fear, as all reality is fictional,
and all created for the sake of choice.
You see, I’ve chosen you to be my biggest dream.
Please love yourself, as you are everything I am.
Don’t yell for me, I do not have a name to scream.
But one thing is for sure, for us, I have a plan.”
“City In The Dust Of My Window
I claim the moments that are bright and drop the darker ones with tears.
Through blurry flash, invisible my light and doesn’t cast a shadow of the worldly fears.
With contrast thrills and contract deals, this city dreams in nightmares and ordeals.
Light bunnies tremble on the windowsills, as sun peeks through the dusty windows.
On rusty hinges, this lifetime opens up to no condition love that I try to recall.
Somebody grab a chalk and write “I heart” on brick and mortar, urban wall
So when all rates and ratings plummet to their fall, I’ll know the true of human kind.
Unbind me from the shackles of the local, traffic grind, remind me that I’m still a spirit.
The local time does not rewind, because this mind is focused in it.
Am I still with it, or am I distancing myself from cellular survival?
This I, it marks another soul arrival, sometimes so lost amongst the concrete monoliths.
My melancholy covers streets, as mist of bittersweet forgiveness.
It’s often said, “just business,” but I’m not here to judge. I’m only here to witness.
Survival systems, to keep myself from being predator, I gave myself this illness.
To some, my love may seem as weakness, but it’s because of it, they still exist.
It’s unconditional as all existence, unending love, it elevates me to persist.”
Cost of productions, what’s your worth in these cattle auctions?
Make no assumptions. It’s all calculated, like the futures options.
Art as business function, it makes no cents without culture corruption.
Consumption, consumption, and I am so fed up that I vomit with “no comment.”
Despite famous tales, the king wears a plush, righteous garment.
Agreed in a summit, disarm them with scarcity, reward for obedience,
isolate the few screaming, no one will hear their experience.
Brilliance is hindrance, and ignorance is bliss in a world controlled by profiteers.
As my exit nears, my acceptance of humans grows like an insidious disease.
From a larger perspective, there are no sins. Survival systems, can you stomach when other bleeds?
And yes, I still smoke trees, as I twitch from convulsions caused by gainful creeds.
A scarecrow, stitched with emotions of pop culture treats, I bobble my head in the ill-weather winds.
Most frequencies are too low in these fields, so food for the worms it yields.
I take peels and peels off what used to be me, what used to be I.
Do I really want to be free, ’cause I can’t remember what lies beyond this sky?
And so, just to feel alive, with eyes wide open, I continue to die.”
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