You can see the lovers eyes.
They dote
As if nothing is broken
Clearly hoping
Dreaming,
No, believing
in a future tense
Such evidence
Is
Pretense.

Word is bond
Yea
Word is good
yea
Word is truth
Yea
Word is action
Naw
Action is bond
Yea
Action is good
Yea
Action is truth
Yea
Action is change
Exactly.

Bang!
Dig! Dig!
Keep your head low
Throw the arms
Pump. Pump.

Woof! wo-woof!Over here!

Breath.
In my nose, out my mouth
Accelerate. Slow rise.
Pump. Pump.
Next gear. Go!
Drive the knees. Forward lean.
There he is! Get him! WOOF!
Keep the stride.
Don't stop.
They can't catch what they can't see.
Ghostin um'.
Lean into this corner.
Drive off it.
Drive! Drive!
Knees high!
Pump your arms!
Go! Go!
He over there! I see him!
More power.
Don't close your stride.
They can't catch you today.
Champion. Don't stop.
Run til you got no more breath!
Run til you got nothing left!
This Is the last stretch.
The finish is near.
Hit your last gear.
Lean across the line,
With steeze.
STOP THIS IS THE POLICE!

Under the cover of night
A knight and a long knife
Ready to stick ready to slice
He looks mad tonight...  

The darkness is deep.
And black,
Black Like the lac sittin out front.
The notion of movin’ inconspicuous is masked
With the shadow of guilt
Swallowing any spark of light
Threatening to dissolve the lust over darkness
Projected by a mind shrouded in grey space.

So he sits low.
Eyes shaded by his fro.
He's patient.
An attribute many deems worthless,
He basks in its tide,
It washes over him with powerful waves of humility
Cleansing any possibility of being replicated.
Never in this life time.

Each step he takes is a movement in the composition of time.
Its flow is powerful but only under a benign face.
The dynamic is only determined after an attempt to cross him.
His mission is calling,

It has led him to this darkness.
The forests of skeletons
Infesting the closet space of his mind only confuses.  
He has realized his afflictions.
Seemingly they are lost in the black.
He watches the politics he has been sent to stop.
It’s disgusting.
But his mission is clear.

The path to success is not.
The path he has chosen is unique.
It has led him into the belly of the beast.
His intel was correct.
His approach is dangerous.
The chance of defecting is high, but he's betting on his will.
As his age grows so does his determination.
With every second passed he stands more ready.

And as the darkness consumes more of all he has built,
And as emotions of despair, pain, embarrassment, loneliness, and worry
weigh down his proud shoulders,
a peculiar spasm of creation happens.

He finds something.
He finds...
Well, he finds himself.
Every ounce of his frail, unmolested, un-influenced self,
Before he discovered lies, and suffered cries,
Before time played its tricks and stole his youth,
Before he started prayin’ for a direction to sin,
Before he discovered his truth.

Now he contemplates.
It’s never too late. He can change.
But His mission stays the same.
After all that is why he searches the dark.
To improve his third eye.
To absolve the blind.
He will not achieve perfection
but the end of his mission will come.
Remember he walks through time it does not move him.
Its blakops, the subconscious thought.

I got 20 answers
But you have 21 questions.
I’m lost trying to find answer.
What is the question?
The gerbil is moving, fast
Thoughts are under construction.
There is a delay…
   Fear
A hard emotion to penetrate
Necessary for a proper foundation
To a relationship;
Built on attraction,
Bombed by trust,
Saved by passion,
This relationship will be built.
There is a delay…
   Unknown
The absence of
Light.
Where do I turn?
Please turn on your light.
I need someone to follow.
Will you allow me.
There is a delay…
   I’m scared and my vision of the future is hazy.

I’m locked up
Rapunzel 5th floor view
Witches Brew keeping me sub-due

        Mind wanders delirious
        Phantom sounds intrude a mind’s
        Creek of thoughts creeping
        Into inebriated contemplations
                      Would she ride fast or slow

A day dream delirious images of a past
Love interrupts
                       She hushes me, the 4-walled prison is white and painted in rains of vitamin, leaked in      
                        through portals propped open with a warm breeze taking the virginity of white curtains,
                       we embrace.
I erupt.
Fantasies flood the ever expanding corners of my mind
Drowning my emotional state with movie clips
Reminiscent of love that should be forbidden
                She smiles from ear to ear.
                 my heart stops,
                 then travels north, constricting my only freeway of life.
I give no fight
With a limited supply, I only want to waste it on you.

You rely on your hero—in  
He must fly, high
In the grey skies, save you—in
Chances at making it
Past rock bottom.

Your Hero—in  
A survivor
A man brok—in
From time
Your Hero—in

The man you must survive,
His emotions, your demise
Your Hero-in
Weak in his will
Bent like hands of time.