LOST Love.
i commit to the submission of your love, i feel the fire burn as it hurts so good, understood your pain in the trial of miscommunication, where we bolth feel frustrated over peoples lies, giving into the sensation of negative vibes so we start to decline. leaving us diveded into two unpredictable guids. We Remain unpatient that's why we cry for tomorrows night. Tears of sarrow flow from her eyes tightning up , i barrow time hoping she don't lose our love in this traggedy of mine. but it always happens tragicly combinding colision mixed with unloyalty depicting what could of been brighter then the suns shine. but the wine she drinks makes her heart less and the blood thin, breaking free from loves clinch and so the pain starts up again, and as gone with the wind replays in this closed cage. Fate always seems to open a new door in this conflicting maze. Entering another chapter, feeling less shame everytime the next page erases a lost love exchange. Leaving the same question, maybe i was the one to blame.. then again who doesn't like to play in the rain

Lost in her eyes Wondering why the charming type seem to act shy but love deep, we go to sleep to dream about the beautiful bein occupying our daily leeps as progression proceeds to keep the soul on its feet, underneath societys heat of constant mistreatment and misory will your souls paire to defeat any hole misseemed in lifes wrinkled sheets, we iron on straight, no crease to misplease any fabricated link. Instead of Why is my kind extinct, why is it that hip hop lines arive but dont speak, while poetry will poor out my seeds, i cry at night sometimes to fight her from talkin inside my mind "Hip Hop",, thinkin is it my time to die yet,, sudden falls in raw death,, last drip regret, wondering why it has felt so good laying on her chest. Praying that i never have stress again.. but its never the end, , forever is my purpose and the purpose provided friends,, but honestly where do i begin.

I wish i could just hit you with this writers block.. its the only solid thing that remains on my watch, besides the useless clock and you telling me to stop so i act not positive but only for the thought of my cause. turning rights into wrongs for the darkness is comfort, barrying my head in the dirt So i could think from down under. forgetting where thunder comes from i throw the block over my shoulder and continue to silently soldier my way threw this old curse of lost words.. I've never asked them why it hurts. Just continue to suffer hopen these verbs will work them selves out with an open stir from the colapse of my souls worth.. living dead i relapse on the feeling of hearing some critiqued work. So i write from another artists eyes, relizing the potential of my vocal instrument on a low pitch cure.  EARTHH BOUND