She falls to quick,
And she falls to hard.
And the world wont care
When she falls apart.

How do i make it hurt less
If nobody is left to help.
How do i make it hurt less
When i don't want to be saved.

You say silence,
the most beautiful kind.
You touch fiction,
soft as a lover's mind.
You hear hiatus,
strong and clear everytime.
I feel you,
and it's like all of it combined.

Black image,
white heart ,
golden souls,
which once trampled on loamy brown soil.
Now in the blue sky ,on this day I remember your beautiful colours.
I miss the old school goodness.

To my fathers,
And father Fathers before me.
Down to the route of my lineage.
From west, east ,north and south of the black world.

Their voices remain melodious like the singing birds in calm forest.
Painters of rainbow,
Legends of time,
Flash back in history.

The Africa culture has always been a beautiful peacock,
One that captivates the mind of all men.

On this day, I take the oath to die as a black,
Nothing less ,I stand firm in my belief,
I remain unshakable.
I plant myself under the soil of custom and tradition.

I drink the toxic wine my ancestors left behind,
I promise to slay the roaming lion of civilization.
I remain a royal loyal soul on my fathers soil,
Not a slave in the foreign land.

Africa the Joseph among his brothers,
When I die give my wealth of belief to generation to come, let my soul embrace the hug from the land of legends.

Black I came out of my mothers womb,
Black I will return to my ancestors.

Iamezzycrown

im a lot like kurt cobain
when i am done writing something that seemed beautiful as i formed it
i begin to really depsise it
i am a lot like kurt cobain
overly humble, a bit too sensual
i am a lot like kurt cobain
i speak loudly but i talk slowly
i am a lot like kurt cobain
i am mild, and peaceful
i am a lot like kurt cobain
i dont have a gun

the aching loneliness that rises up into my throat, scratched raw with fire, and settles into my fragile rib cage as the most unwanted guest, has been there for as long as i can remember. my anxious, angst ridden youth has done little to put my soul at rest. perhaps it shall never rest.

i've never felt that i belong anywhere, for my soul grows tires if i remain in the same place for too long. i don't know if i'll ever find a place that i truly belong, but i hope i find it soon because the life i've been living is draining. so much so that i'd like to run away.

i am like the ocean, fickle and tumultuous, glimmering and dangerous. i can take you to strange place with exotic women and tropical delights, make you believe in every sight, every fata morgana, like it's the truth, and i can make you hurt. i can be cruel and unforgiving, showing no mercy for those who dare cross me. i can be a hurricane and sweep you up in a storm of unbridled passion and fiery rage. i can make you drown.

my dear, i am the lover you wish you had, the lover you wish you knew. i am the lover that would die for you.

i'll wait up for you on my throne in room thirteen, honey. i'll wait for you to come along and take a walk on the wild side for once; you'd like to think you're bad, nut i know in your heart you're soft. my soul won't wait long, so hurry up, boy, before time runs out.

don't you want to find heaven, honey?