The natural habits say I love you
But here I am that  can’t afford the word
It’s high like the chief priests in the days of the synagogue
What can I have than less of tantrums of thy forbidden nature

Can a man not love no more - the preconditions let I never settle, thy heart roams

I have groomed my heart for the worst to be on the left when things are right
To laugh when I have to cry
So see me run for I am the beast love made

I like mayhems and taste of roaming in the gazette of me striding through what failed me
The once beaten twice shy worked not on me
the buster in me fled the castle of thinkers and soon reunited my ambitions to tip dance over what I hold as dreams
I am not a fighter but I scavenge anything in line of my progress worse than a Vulture on a hyena. Breathe in, you can’t take me on - loose the grip the world wickedness roams
#herdsmanofprogress