What mysteries I see that unwritten histories
Laying on my bed transmitting through my head and live Destinies
Hopes and dreams that seem to glean the tattered mind within me
Segments of shows that unfolds as a well organized symphony
Mix with the unreality of my fatality of my present society
constantly heightened to begin the reel of sin to my false reality
effortlessly living in a world I pretend to see
Filling in the words never heard outside of my mental tapestry
Unalarmed by the continual harm to my character’s Divine legacy
Deep impressions of evil secession start to formate my death decree
So I am praying about how to get out of what is creating my soul’s debris
I pray to surrender what hinders me from becoming free
Free from the sentence of death and the unwritten histories