I do not usually indulge in "red"
Mostly white or crystal clear
More than a sip, something like a big bite I take... yes, I miss my beer
But this is like... a taste of paradise
This... I like
As suggested by hammered eyes
It's seductive... like a mirage deep in the desert
It's like a fair step on a steep hillside, pleasant
Those that indulge in it together, are birds of a feather
It's like a sly friend, "there for you" no matter the weather
Then smacks you upside your head the following morning
It's like a trumpet in your head, and your voice of reason following... moaning
"oooh...why didn't you stop when you realized morning was dawning?"
Now a headache is spawning
Your hung over, your eye
Just as red
As what it is I'm drnking... It's wine.

A cold warmth
A warm cold
A comforting embrace from the Almighty
A reassuring gesture that shouldn't be taken lightly
When God talks, He needs no words
Even on long walks, the journey becomes less hard
When He takes your hand, and walks you through
As long as you stay real, sincere and true
He drops you hints, a subtle clue
And watches... when you winced, He knew
A warm cold
A cold warmth
The wind around speaks of blessings bound
To come
Inspires you to meditate... to hum
And fear, it shrinks up like washed up cotton
Your destiny is so on point, you're "spot on"
As much as the last few steps to the peak may seem hard
Remember... when God speaks to you, He needs no words.

I'm random, I know
But random is something that I appreciate being... and that's why I grow
As I maximise my verbal flow
Without thinking, much more powerful than speaking
This written stuff never fails to show
That I can go... to lengths
No poet has ever gone before
More for the sake of being real to myself, than for show
Different is how I go about it
Hard to concieve just how I would ever be able to flow without it
This 'random'
This thing that I do
As I put forward my thoughts to you
Always true, never overdone
I would emphasize on two true points, before I ever trip over one
Infact, I would never trip over one
Because I don't lack this... thing they call skill
Product of a combination of practice... and ill will
Crazy is what some may call it
Phase me?... No, none may foil it
My plan
Still remains greater than
The majority... words dripping with controversy and personality
On another level, who's talking equality?
I don't overthink
And still express it to the brink
My idea
With no fear
Get it clear
It's real poetry going on right here.