The Figure gained speed.
The Beaten Path continued to shallow him.
The Stranger did not know which would **** him first.
He relaxed, and accepted his fate.
Mud encompassed his head, the Figure was inches away.

Life gave way from his body.
His head went limp, he fainted.
The Figure stopped the mud, and sighed.
"Humans."
The Stranger awoke, as the sun shined on him from the east.
This Figure did not have the predominate human features;
No ears,
No mouth,
No nose,
No hair, and
No pupils.
But eyes stared blankly at him.

Death, was amused that he didn't faint.
Then the laughter came when, the Stranger figured out who he was.
The laughter filled his head, echoing through his body.
"Yes, Death is thee name and fame."

Floating upon a never ending stream.
It guides me to a destination I could never dream.
Thoughts of change are woven into place.
Tied to nothing, not even a base.

Other streams criss-cross my path.
Streams of thoughts and dreams.
Streams of hate and love.
Streams of happiness and sorrow.
All flowing to their endpoints.

Could of. Would of. Should of.
Ridden the Stream of Dreams.
But change was what I needed.
When will it reach its endpoint, I don't know.
I'll ride until I reach that endpoint, that change.

Screams of insanity pierced his mind,
And rivets through his body.
The handgun, which he held with a death grip, Found the floor.
The mirror.
Did not reflect him.
It showed the chairs, tables, even the gun.
But the person who stood inches away,
Could not be seen.

Panic and uncertainty moved him.
He needed to flee.
He wanted to flee.
To escape this hellhole called home.
Without realization, he picked up the rose he loathed.
Grabbed his spring coat and fled.
He wanted to know.
He needed to know.

The screams of insanity still raged in him.

1,000 years have passed and gone.
Seasons have turned.
Civilizations, have been wiped out.
Generations, have seen their share of life.

There is one helpless soul.
Which even Sleeps' cousin doesn't smile upon.
With each breath life left him.
The Prisoner, still perched on the wall after 1,000 years.

He rose his head the slightest.
Stared pass the iron bars that caged him.
Into the hallway.
The candles still burned.

Fog started to drift towards his cage.
It rose 6 feet into the air.
The smell of sulfur filled his cage.
The fog shaped itself as a door, she walked out.

A golden eyed beauty stepped forth.
In a all black dress, with golden trims.
"He comes this eve."
A smile etched across his face.

I'm African and I'm proud.
Hip hop is not the only genre I listen to.
Classic rock, classical music, jazz/blues, country, metal, and even disney musical scores.
I **** at basketball, can careless about sport.
Can run fast as hell ;)
If a **** or KKK member called me a ******.
I'll shake his/her hand, say hello.
End with the ever pleasant;
"Have a good day."

I'll run 6 miles day. (was 12)
I'll walk to each sunset.
I'm a nerd first, poet second, reader third.
I'll say no to cigs, drugs etc.
I'll laugh at every **** thing that's funny to me.
I'm a kid at heart.
I'll help the weak.
I'll Feed the poor.
I'm going to marry who I want.
I'll be the nicest **** person I can be.
I'll take care my mom when I'm older.
I'm not going to join the Society of the Norm.

This night, 4 of the am to be precise.
I laid in my lonely bed.
With my laptop replaying my "sleeping music".
Which ranged from great pianist to jazz to rock.

It wasn't a nightmare or my phone ringing.
I simply woke up, stared blankly at the ceiling.
Deciding on what I would do.
I rose out of bed and walked.

Where I was going was unknown.
Why I was doing this unknown.
What I was going to do unknown.
All I could was walk

The night was still, but beautiful.
I felt as if I finally could have some peace.
Hell I could sleep on the grass if need be.
Then I saw the bench.

Sitting peacefully on the bench.
My mind wandered as it tended to.
Peaceful, and calm thoughts dominated.
A thought finally, slapped me hard.

My legs moved, my body followed.
Where I was going, to the hill.
What I was going to do, was to sit and watch.
Why I was doing this, to see the sunrise.

The world went silent.
Nature began turning its wheel.
Night was converting to day.
The orange ball uncovered itself to the world.

The Stranger continues his mission.
Traversing from grasslands
To a forest filled with dead trees.
Walking upon a Beaten Path.
Critters going about their night
Feasting,
Grooming, and
Running.

The Stranger stares up at the Moon
It has reached it's peak.
Within moments he realizes the Moon
Seemed a bit different.
It donned a waxing crescent.
As if smiling to him.
Goosebumps appeared on his arms.
Creepy, he thought to himself.

The Stranger contiuned onward.
The night acompanyed him,
With every step and breath.
The cold was becaming ever more bitter.
He pulls the hood over his head.
Trees began singing their ghostly songs.
Critters seemed to be banished,
As if the Beaten Path forced them off.

The Stranger felt unease.
"Something isn't right here."
He mumbled to himself.
But his lips did not part.
In fact it was a bit diffcult to open.
Actually it wasn't even budging.
Then his eyes fell upon a figure.
He stopped dead in his tracks.

The figure moved closer and closer,
Faster and faster.
He wanted to say something.
He wanted to fight.
He wanted to run.
He wanted to finish his mission.