Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2019
Lost ones and a lost soul doesn't know the mystery behind his history coming back wanting payback, play it in the Maybach, and lay back, and take that, face that, you'll never find your way back, your lost, I put the petal to the metal, knowing I'm a rebel to the level of understanding that I don't see myself, a vessel, that's a rhythm for your nation if you wish to lead an army in a harmony you love, mastering the art of proxy wars using oxymorons, and leading all my enemies to think I was the weakest link with strong connections, that's how you form a bond with robbing souls, I call it "making a killing", the perfect toll of hyperbole and so tonight will be the night you struck the nerve in me to ****** the ******* that never heard of me fully, you heard?!, never complicated, it'll be easy to die the fastest, plus it tends to be the nastiest ones, from the flashiest guns, no need for asking me I demonstrate it happily and leave some room for silence-later, the science behind the triumph, I cannot explain, it's the feeling that does the talking and pleases the brain.
Written by
Cyclone  22/M/Houston, TX
(22/M/Houston, TX)   
73
   Cyclone
Please log in to view and add comments on poems