My bad bro.
My message. A second in suspense
The head suspended
By one thread.
Kept undead.
Left unsaid
Spoken in a word that voices choices
In a war not endeavoured yet
Of light and breath.
Against. The stench of death
And letting go.
With wholesome gifts with in a heart.
In blessed protection of a lesser tension.
Heaven. Of an endless story.
Period end of sentence.
Let's begin with getting headless
As I'm meant to face my fears
Menace every second
*** I fear I'm not accepted.
But its false I'm like American express.
Accepted everywhere and just in case
They dont accept it I'm also cash and credit....
When I get to heaven. I'll determine my application as  either a lover or a weapon. *** I'm definitely not defenceless... pretend for a second
I'm pretending. And meant for less than.
I'll be satisfied with my intentions to bless every woman child and men with. My imagination. Emotions. Thought and intelligence.
Its good to try your best and develope mental stamina to dig deep when things get hellish quick.
Relish it.
I've developed this
And bask in it like I've been telling you
I'm meant for heaven in hope of never selling an imbellishment