PLANET NAIROBI (When the sun goes down)
Nur…
They were on the verge of losing this battle… it was only a matter of time, and he knew that. Through the window, he saw them advance, with a fierce swiftness that would have put anyone opposed to them at unease. Trembling uncontrollably, he reached for his weapon and held it firmly, ready to martyr himself for his family’s honour and legacy if need be. For they were not, and never would be known as a family of cowards, they were royalty... and he would rather go down fighting than cowering, that was the bottom line. But he knew that his sword, as well forged as it was, would be no match for Rath and his five hundred man strong battalion. So, biting his lower lip he waited for the pounding footsteps to reach the top of the stairs where he stood, the one solitary guardian to the throne. Martyrdom was his destiny.
“Let he that stands between Rath and the throne fall like the city walls!” Rath’s dominant voice bellowed as it got closer, too close for comfort.
He braced himself.
Suddenly, the doors burst open. And Nur... Prince Nur, finally got to come face to face with the scourge that had terrorised the lands of the sea for so long. A man of whom he had heard about from stories as a child growing up. A man that had haunted his dreams for as long as he could remember. Nur realised that he had always been afraid of Rath, long before this moment, how was he supposed to fight this man when he was clearly at a disadvantage? For it was common knowledge that to go into battle afraid, was to go into battle prepared to lose.
Rath was a gigantic figure, and exuded the air of one who was accustomed to crushing his opponents and hadn’t experienced defeat in a while... if not ever. This man stood at almost eight feet tall, with rock hard muscles that seemed to pile on top of more muscle, threatening to tear through his dark skin. His long locks of unkempt hair fell over a face that could only be described as menacing. He had a permanent scowl that was complimented by his black, soulless eyes. And as they stared each other down, Nur couldn’t ignore the presence of sheer evil he saw in those eyes, a shiver of dread ran down his spine. He raised his blade.
“A child?” Rath barked, “A petulant child? Is that what this Kingdom’s defences have come down to? An infant?” He waved a dismissive hand at Nur.
“A prince!” Nur responded defiantly, raising his blade even higher and more confidently. This man may have been the epitome of terror, but Nur would be ****** if he was going to be talked down to in this manner, this was his palace.
“A prince huh? Prince Nur I presume? Your father was a brave man, I respected him. Even if I met his acquaintance only for a couple of minutes, before I slaughtered him. But I do respect a king that fights alongside his men, as opposed to other cowards I’ve had the pleasure of killing that had barricaded themselves in their chambers and let others fight their battles for them. King Thur was a rare breed... but a dead one all the same.” He laughed remorselessly as he said this. “And soon you will get to join your warrior father foolish one.”
Nur lost all sense of fear. Infuriated, his nostrils flared as he swung the blade with all the ferocity he could muster, slicing deep into Rath’s right forearm. Time slowed to syrup as he saw his adversary’s blood stain the sword, but realising that it wasn’t a fatal strike, he turned around swiftly, switching his stance just in time to see Rath’s massive blade come down on his head. Then there was a deathly silence.
The afterlife was nothing like he had pictured. It smelt of... he couldn’t quite place that peculiar smell. It wasn’t pleasant, but neither was it unpleasant, just unfamiliar. Then he turned around and saw her. He deduced that she was probably the source of the smell. He noticed that smoke came out of her nostrils and mouth every few seconds after lifting a sticklike object to her lips. Nur mused at how wrong the high priest in their kingdom had been when he spoke about the place in the sun... the afterlife. It wasn’t anything like he had described.
But wait a minute! He realised that the sun was still above him, in the sky. He could see it. He could feel it on his skin. So WHERE WAS HE? He felt dizzy, unable to comprehend. Only a minute ago he was in the royal palace, facing certain death. And now he was... he didn’t know where he was, or even what he was. Was he dead? Transcended? Was this just his soul? If so, then how come he still had his senses? All these questions raced through his mind at the same time. He turned toward the lady, who seemed unaware of his presence. She was tall and very light skinned compared to him and her hair was tied in ponytail at the back of her head. He couldn’t make sense of her attire though, she seemed to wear a lot of clothing, garment over garment that covered her arms and legs. She was also extremely beautiful and had a slim womanly body most warriors would **** for, he noted, and felt himself flush. He tried to see what she was squinting so intently at and concluded that she was just staring into space as she drew, he realised now, on the tiny stick and blew out more smoke. That was when he noticed how high up they were, this palace stood almost five times as high as theirs. It was overwhelming to say the least.  He got up and walked over to her, deciding to leave his blade behind so as not to come off as a threat.
“Greetings?” He said politely. She jumped as if she had just seen a ghost, dropping the stick she was holding. He had clearly startled her, so he took a step back lifting his hands in the air to signify that he meant her no harm. She breathed rapidly and began to speak just as rapidly in a foreign tongue. Nur couldn’t understand what she was saying, but the hostility in her tone and her demeanour was hard to miss. He took another step back, ready to defend himself from an attack if need be. He had heard tales of an island with warrior women who could match, and beat, even the strongest male adversary in combat. He decided to tread cautiously.


Nasim...
Nasim Naikuni was beyond peeved. Who was this ******?  He had scared her half to death and almost made her fall off the roof, not to mention burn her favourite grey, three thousand shilling trouser suite when she dropped the cigarette. And what annoyed her even more was that he didn’t seem to register how ******* she was. He just stood there with a blank expression on his face, like a schoolboy waiting for his mistake to be explained to him. Nasim couldn’t stand slow people, they got under her skin. She was yelling at the top of her lungs, which was taxing to say the least, seeing as she had been smoking just seconds ago.
“Are you slow?” She shouted, tapping at her temple repeatedly. “What makes you think you can sneak up on me like that you fool? You almost killed me. Do you realise that?” Then she stopped and studied him, out of breath. She noticed that he seemed unable to understand English and so she switched to Swahili, “Nini mbaya na wewe?” What’s wrong with you? Still there was no response.
She gave him a once over. He dressed strangely. His large, golden brown pants that fluttered in the wind seemed to have been made from an expensive material, though it was like no material she’d laid eyes on before. It bordered somewhere between silk and suede. His shirt was also made of a similar material, but leather brown in colour, matching his leather boots that were laced and reached just under the knee. He stood an inch or two shorter than she did, but she guessed that was probably because she was in heels. He had long hair that seemed to fall halfway down his back in one long braid. He looked almost exotic as he tried to communicate, but she couldn’t place the language or his ethnicity, for his skin-tone was chocolate brown but his hair looked almost like an Asian’s, dark and straight. He spoke in a tongue she had never heard before. There was also something really classy about this boy, whom she guessed to be around eighteen years of age or so. It was like looking at a darker, more pampered version of Sinbad the sailor.
Nasim relaxed a little and decided to give the fellow a chance to introduce himself, in whatever way he intended to do so. He seemed to pick up on this and started explaining something to her, making a couple of gestures, and at some point she thought she saw him mimic a fight, and then  point to the sky. Nasim still didn’t know what he was talking about, but felt a semblance of communication begin to take form. He directed her attention to another part of the roof, probably where he had approached her from. And she saw the blade! With catlike agility she swung her purse at him, the blow caught him square on the jaw with a thud! The bottle of perfume she religiously carried around in it serving a different purpose on this day. He hadn’t seen it coming and so had no chance of stopping it. He staggered backwards as she made a run for it toward the staircase but felt a hand grab her ankle causing her to tumble onto the hot cement floor. At that moment her heart sank, for she knew that she was done for.


Nur...
Nur was perplexed, he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve the assault. The lady had seemed to be calming down, but all of a sudden she had lunged at him with a weapon he had first assumed to be a bag. Though, she didn’t strike with the strength that a warrior would have, and also had made an attempt to flee. This told him two things. One, she wasn’t accustomed to combat... and two, she had attacked more out of fear than strife. Which meant that she posed no immediate threat to him. Also, she was the only person he had met so far and his only hope of figuring out where he was. He couldn’t afford to lose her, not just yet, so he decided to try something he was ashamed he hadn’t thought of sooner. Nur spoke into her head.
‘I mean you no harm.’  He said, and waited. No response. He tried again, concentrating harder this time. ‘Can you hear me? I mean you no harm’
‘LET ME GOOO!’  Her thoughts screamed.
He could understand her, they had made a connection. Progress...

One year later. Nasim...
“Good afternoon people? You’re hangin’ out with me Nasim Naikuni on your favourite show Voices, where you can throw any question you have regarding life... and living it, at me and the voices in my head will answer them for you... yeah, you heard right, the voices in my head. I’ll be takin’ your calls for the next hour. Let’s begin shall we?” Nasim spoke into the microphone just before a voice-over added...
“NASIM NAIKUNI, THE ONLY RADIO PRESENTER THAT’S LITERALLY GONE BONKERS!” And then was followed by some rock music. ‘So what?... I’m still a rock star... ’ Pink’s lyrics belted out as Nasim removed her headphones to take a breather before she talked to her first caller. A breather... and also to have a bit of a chat with the voice in her head. She walked out of the studio into a corridor where she was out of sight, and concentrated, her eyes crinkling from the effort.
‘Hey, are you there?’
‘Uh huh.’ The prince replied.
‘Okay, we’re on in roughly three minutes. Make me look good babes’
‘Don’t I always?’
‘True dat. What are you doing?’
‘Breakfast.’
‘It’s one in the afternoon... ’
‘This is not my planet, therefore I’m not obliged to follow its rules. I can have a one o’clock breakfast if I want to.’
‘Brunch.’
‘What?’
‘Brunch, what your having would be brunch. Breakfast... aaand lunch?’
‘You see? You get all high and mighty on me about this and you even have a name for it? If it is so wrong to have breakfast at this time, then why would your people give the meal a name? I’m just saying.’ Nur said mockingly.
‘I give up’ She replied with a sigh.
‘Nas... Nas?’
Silence.
She walked back into the studio.
“Caller... you’re on air. Shoot.” Nasim said softly, leaning into the microphone.
“Hey Nasim, lovely job you’re doing by the way.”
“Why thank you dear, but I don’t deserve all the credit you know?”
“Yeah I know... you and the voices in your head... ha-ha! Anyway my name is George, and I’m kinda’ in a predicament at the moment. You see, I have a wife and a family... two kids, but I kinda’ got into this relationship outta’... obligation as opposed to real love...”
“Obligation?”
“Yes. I met my wife five years ago in uni’ and we dated. But looking back, I only got into the relationship because I felt I’d led her on and she loved me soo much, I just couldn’t disappoint her. So I got stuck in a phony relationship, at least on my part. Next thing I know, we are pregnant and... It’s been we ever since.”
“So you want to what? Get out of your marriage?”
“I want to be with the person I truly love...”
“Hooo... **! Scoreboard! Now we have lift off. And how long have you known this person that you truly love George?” She said this with a tinge of amusement in her voice.
“Six years... and we’ve been going out for the past two.” He sounded ashamed.
‘He sounds ashamed.’ She heard Nur say observationally.
‘No kidding.’ She retorted.
(In the past year or so, Nasim and Nur had come to an understanding somewhat. After she had struck him with her purse and the little scuffle they’d had on the rooftop, and after convincing herself that she wasn’t going crazy... or that the cigarette she had been smoking wasn’t laced with marijuana or some other hallucinogen, she finally gave in and listened to the voice speaking to her in her thoughts.
‘Please, just give me a chance to explain. I need your help lady!’ He sounded desperate.
She felt sorry for him, but still suspected she could be going nuts.
He continued. ‘I don’t know where I am. My father is dead and I don’t know where I am or how I arrived here, and you’re the only one that can help me right now...’
Nasim, touched now, replied. “How am I supposed to do that? And how are you doing this telepathy thing? Are you really doing this?” She shook her head violently, like a wet dog trying to dry itself, “I’m very confused right now.”
He looked even more confused. ‘Talk to me in my head, I think it is the only way we can communicate with each other.’
She didn’t know how to.
‘It’s simple, concentrate.’ He said reassuringly.
She tried. Still nothing.
‘I could hear you a moment ago, I don’t understand. Let’s try this slowly, repeat after me... Nur.’ He told her.
She heard him, and was thinking what?
He repeated, ‘Nur.’
She tried thinking the word he’d asked her to repeat as hard as she could but he didn’t seem to be getting anything. She decided that the cigarette must have been laced with something. Here she was, on the roof top of her work building trying to master telepathy, with a stranger who just happened to own a sword. This had to be a dream, a nightmare.
‘I must be high.’
‘Yes! Yes! You’re high!’ She heard the excited reply.
‘What?’
‘You did it!’ Nur said happily, ‘you figured it out. And yes, I was also meaning to ask you about how high we are.’
She had done it. Nasim could hear him and answer back, she felt oddly proud of this accomplishment. Then she asked puzzled. ‘High? You get high?’
‘I am high.’ Came the naive reply.
‘Oh...’
‘Why are we so high up? The palaces on our island are half the size of yours, are you that many in your palace that you need to build it so tall?’
Then she understood. And laughed... ‘Who are you? And how did you get here?’
‘My name is Nur... Prince Nur... how I got here? That’s what I’m trying to find out.’ He was being honest.
And thus begun an adventurous relationship between the two. Nasim took him to her apartment that day, passing curious and disapproving looks all the way. The most difficult part being trying to explain to her boss why she was coming from the roof in the company of someone who dressed like a ******, as he put it. She made up something. And he gave her one of those I’ll accept your story just because... looks. Nasim found that hilarious. But she was glad she had asked Nur to leave the sword behind to be recovered later. That would have been a tad difficult to explain. They got to her apartment block and were met by more disapproving looks from a group of nosey old women, the type that love to mind everyone else’s business but their own, as they walked to the lift. And when they got into apartment F6 on the second floor, she introduced Nu

burn
white hot is the silent rath
it festers within
like a scarlet fire upon evergreen
embers trapped in dark irises
ashes lost to soft whispers

If we continue picking the scab of the Earth-
she'll release a defense that will make COVID-19 feel -
like a case of the sniffles ...

Hush now my child,don't say a word
Listen to the sounds of the mocking bird.
  
Meek and gentle he does sing,
About a tale long before the spring.
  
A tale of anger and love abound,without
the gentle streams.
  
A couple young and strong,Under the winters rath
  
The winds did blow harsh and cruel,Which filled their hearts
with tears of ice.
  
Now,this tale old but true,begins to come to life.
The spring did come again and melted their tears away.
  
Now,listen children cant you hear,The singing of
the mocking bird,as it cheers for the couple with the frozen tears.
  
But listen children,cant you hear as the mocking bird,begins
to cheer,or could it be a sparrow that fell beneath the couples feet?

come with thee,
into black,
forget thy purpose,
remember thy lack,
scour in loneliness ,
unforgiving winds,
lose thy dreams,
and sensation in thy limbs.

thou shalt not sleep as thou recall all of thy sin,
f'r its the strongest curse in all ye' land,
not the black death, n'r thy's measles,
rath'r its depression, the sickness of thy people,
f'r a man hath nay choice but to give in,
as he hang beneath the churches steeple,
he pens a letter about the illness, warning thy people,
as he explains it'll nev'r defer
you will nev'r be able to feel again,
as im ****'d to announce there is nay cure.

What keeps me happy makes me happy,
can get me blue than slaps me, lastly aske me,
What happened at sea?
Connecting closer and closer to you and you,
it's easy to lost sight of the light that's brought you to,
walking through the valley of doom,
with a capital V for vicious, vastly,
and the various moon;
I was swept to my back by the scariest broom,
left breathless, meat of my body unstressed
and stretch less for the world to consume.
Woken up my throats choken up
from all this rough spoken stuff, though
none was really spoken to me but
rath spoken through me, while thinking
I'm being consumed when I was only consuming.
Earth - yes I get a bit gloomy and ******* sue me!
But all you'll get is what I've given to ya,
the beauty of the moon, sun, land and the blue sea.

The all attractive mighty-
Blue-skinned idol deity,
Grasping all suffer and misery
Call himself The Hari.
Even a leaf can symbol a devotee
Being natkhatlal is what Maiyaa worry;
His existence is an endless rath,
Knowledge is what defines Jagannath.
The Lotus-Eyed he is-
Lord of Love whom we wish,
Charioteer to Arjuna
Raas and Kanhaiyya,
Together we say-
Hari! hari!

It was dead of winter, the air, silent and cold
Layers of fresh snow falling, stacking on the old
I was completely frozen and felt so alone
I didn't realize how long i'd be waiting on my own

Then, in a dark shadow something caught my eye
I saw a warm smile, on which I felt I could rely
You knew to approach me slowly, so I wouldn't be scared away
For the first time in a long time I was seeing the light of day

You gently reached for my arm to guide me on my way
I felt your warm blooded skins touch through my every vein
You paused for a moment and I was confused
You said to close my eyes there was one thing you had to do

I felt you place something around my wrist
I was so immersed in the warm touch I barely noticed it
Although there was nothing to see, it felt thin like string
Oh well, never mind I thought, lets see what this journey may bring

So we walked and walked and laughed until the spring
Our laughter harmonized with the birds as they started to sing
We walked side by side, so closely but never crossed paths
I would've felt more whole being your other half

When it got dark at night you lit the path for me
I didn't know how important a stranger could one day be
One day it rained and I turned to you
When I saw you were the cloud, I didn't know what to do

I thought it's simple, it must be me
I must just attract these type of things
The rain cleared and you were there
We were still walking I just didn't know where

After every storm i'd drift slightly away to avoid the rath
Its hard to go far though when you feel like you're missing half
I tried to get the storms to stop, but you always had a reason
You had an explanation for why it had to rain in every season

It was understandable,  easy to accept and believe
What was my other choice I wasn't going to leave
One day it rained so hard I fell
I didn't feel the pain entranced by the rain's somber smell

The pain lasted, as did the rain
I could barely catch my breath or stay sane
I knew it once and for all I had to step away
I could see in the distance the dawn of a new day

But when I started to walk away, I couldn't really leave
There was a string attached to you, bound to my sleeve

It was sewn on so tight, there was no space to see
I knew if I were to cut it off, it would cut a little of me
But I realized wounds heal, it's okay to bleed
Sometimes If you feel like you can't be free, freedom is what you need

Wide awake in a room
swallowed by darkness,
my body is cloaked
with the haunting grasps
of a memory.

A recognition of a bruise,
though the damage is spectral,
the revival of the thought
hurts my corporal vessel.

Causing apparitions of a dark figure,
slowly emerging to my body.
trying to hold me as it envelops
its ghastly form.

It whispers words
that took long to forget,
blurring my mind
as images conspire around me,
rebirthed in the flames in which
i burned them to death.

Slowly, i weaken
until i am fully constricted,
giving in to the thought,
to the figure, to the memory.

Falling asleep.

Tt trying to st ay awak e   but
i  d rath errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr fall asleep
            t haan to be haunted
  for  theeeerest of the nig h  t                                     .

While grating gusts and gales of Winter’s winds
Mourn with a deaf’ning dirge till Spring begins,
Intently and contentiously they’ll look
For that moral compass found in the book
of such lovingly constructed wording
Of whose heart’s thoughts in our minds are painting
Their reflection to grow within our hearts;
Like wisdom to child, their parent imparts.
He transcends any cultural chasm
To reach all hearts before his phantasm.
Clarity of faith by which we can walk
Decanting the love but keeping the cork
As a stopper to stop the willing draining
To those wilfully closed eyes rejecting.

The burring and whirring takes us to task
In battle, futile for the facile mask;
The mask to mask the vacuous content
With razzle-dazzle detracting repent.
Low weaponry the opposition draws
On his ***, so preys on our many flaws.
The things at which he cannot be the best,
Hopeless to attempt, so drags down the rest.
The strength from these words is for us to draw
To fortify the truth and shroud our flaw
From the eyes and lies of the wicked one;
Weakening us ‘till easily undone.

Never must we, so never shall we yield
Lest we gamble that love that we all wield.
The love that is him, not given by whim,
Can and will be found in amongst this din
Of the towns and cities keeping alive
The corrupt, capital world of the lies.
Dangling the bogus carrot of pleasure;
Misdirecting us all from the treasure
Of something more real spiritually
than anything that’s found posthumously.

For when time grows old, all corners explored,
All things have been sold and all has been bought.
When all has been said and all has been done
With nothing unpainted, ev’rything sung,
All’s been invented, no lines left to write,
No mountain to climb, no evil to fight,
No path left untried, no words left to talk,
No niche unoccupied, no roads to walk.
To surpass anything, where is the hope?
Upon past achievements we will still dote.

All religions, legions and ligaments
Feel full force of their own eradicant.
Once blinded by their own faithful binding
They’ll begin to prove its own unwinding.
Then reluctant eyes open up to see
Their stubbornness was based on fallacy.
By this time now all chances will be spent.
Choices made by those who will now regret
Not seeing what’s evident for all sight
But those whose hearts and eyes they kept shut tight.
Regret will abound for the truth not found.
Eternity in Hades and the ground
Is the only future for the many
Who chase that carrot dangling for jenny.

Ambiguity of a single word
Begs contextual study of the broad.
Only then can a justification
Substantiate their stubborn rejection.
What will fill the void where once there was truth?
Ostensibly only eternal ruth,
Curtailed by the one whose ultimatum
Can be found in that book of verbatim.
The book written to escape the scapegrace
Our only grace and our only solace.

Those grating gusts part, exposing a path
A path enough wide for many a rath,
But the wind which once blew for all idols
Has changed its direction toward idylls.
Softly but certainly the air makes change.
With grating now gone, systems rearrange.
Where one and one equal much more than two,
Longer is forever if it’s just you.
Love is the only, the all, and ever,
The one currency we’ll grow together.

Amen.

they all suround me
calling me a villan
a freak
a deamon
a monster
just because how i act
my personality
my insaneity
and i realize if they waunt a moster ill give it to them
ill unleash my rath
just because they waunt a villan
but i realize that villans dont get happy endings
but no matter what i do
IM A MONSTER

I guess I'm at a point where it's hard to accept the fact that these facts aren't always facts, something like a trap in an acid bath. We all feel the rath but refuse to do the math, with no plan of attack to give more than we lack. Our world is a black cat, and we still blame it all on bad luck.
How many times have we said that this life just simply isn't enough? I guess there's simplicity in giving up, and that specifically stems from a gut of empty authenticity. We ARE electricity, but instead of honing in on ourselves, we fixate on the T.V. screen. It makes me want to scream, honestly.
I'm so sick of the mean hearted schemes that are believed to be what we "need". The generation of children that don't even know what it means to claim how they want to be seen.
We lack ownership.
To be real is to keep your soul clean in a ***** room, to bloom through all of this rain and the gloom, to never doom another person, because you have never walked in their shoes. You dive in the chemically toxic pool, and drown others for being "thirsty". I think we are all parched for some mercy on this journey. We cannot demand perfection when we, ourselves, could never be worthy. I guess I'm just in a hurry to correct a vision that remains so blurry. I guess I'm in a vortex of complex rejects who think it's best to neglect the steps to reach an untouched depth.
Hold your respect, I am not done yet.
I guess this life runs through my pen. I might run out of ink before I reach the end, because I feel myself talking to these lines like they're my only friends. I guess I'm saying that I think people pretend because they don't know how to ascend beyond energies that only suspend.
If I could lend you peace of mind, I would crack my veins all over these lines,
seal it in an envelope, and you could read behind my eyes. I guess you would be surprised that sometimes these words only flow like water because I cry at the sight of the world's demise.

- L.G.

an exorcism for breakfast
spoon feed your children
with the rath of god
shove your views down the throats
of the seeds you planted
teach them not to think
to live in a path
god choose for them

I am day and night
With you through dark and light
Unchanging. Unnmovable
There is none like me
However no rarity
For I am everywhere
Can't see me, can't touch me
Yet I'm closer to you than anything has ever been
But you keep me at distance
As you sleep I stay
As you wake I stay
I speak and it is
I think and it is done
You take, I give
Even as a flower dries in the sun
You can fade like the cloud covered moon
I give life and I take life
As easily as it is, it was
Blink once
And I can seen a million lifetimes
I bless and curse
I sow, I reap
I am peace and rath
I am known and imfamous
I am loud and soft
I am your safety and your fear
I am past and future
I am begining and end
I am alive, but I was not born.

Fever


           When sickness strikes the Land, people try to run.

                      But, like a shackle like a band, it has trapped and it has won.


           It sweeps in at a hot hour and tries to ruin everything in its path.

                     With destruction it shows its power and brings its deadly rath              


         When you start to ache, and yellow floods your eyes,

                                   you know you can not wait to say your last goodbyes.


          But don't lose hope now, there is still life,

                                                 And fight the pain of the fevers sharp knife.


          Hope is real Philadelphia, because you are now free,

                                                from the chains of the yellow fever in 1793.



                                                       ~Trinity Monks

When I only live in my past
When my future is unknown
When my present is unshown
When my life path
Is buried with stones
When im so uncertain
What I'm supposed to be
I just do what i know
Do what i've seen
Only staying here
Because i don't know how to die
Only doing what ive seen
And surrounded by people alive
Wishing I left
Knowing im a mess
With so much stress
And no rest
It's a pain to live
It's like im consistently getting hit
Unable to get up
From this never ending hole
I'm staying alive
But i don't know my role
I look in the mirror
And don't know what ive become
So much hate
Not enough love
And one day
I realize all this stuff
I realize I've had enough
And hold the knife
In the hands of mine
But I can't make the move
Because I see my mamas eyes
And I drop the knife
And realize I have to survive
For my young ones life's
Because they did the same for mine
So another day I stay alive
Another day of pain
Another night of cry
An another day I try
To find the hope
And the rope
That'll get me out
Of the never ending hole
And realizing its about time
To put my life on forward
An off of rewind
And put on that smile
Even if its fake
No one will know the difference
Because no ones
been through the same
I move the stones Sent from devin
find my future
leave behind my past
Show my rath
Because I do what I need
And not what I've seen

Outside clouds of smoke escape from his perfectly chapped lips,
regret sits with the cigarette **** he holds too tightly in his finger tips.
Screaming and justifications make the last page write longer,
Just a few more paragraphs even if they are purely somber.

Just stay right here with me and live in the entire complication of us,
My tears have left his once crimson heart tainted with rust.
I didn't mean to stain you with the black secrets that fill the smallest cracks in my lungs,
I didn't mean to say I hate you when I only loved you but sometimes my heart speaks in tongues.

Steal my breath please suffocate me,
                     Can you please,
  or am I
too demanding?

I'm sincerely sorry lovely,
                      I'm close to terrified,
Though we're almost over with each inhale my love for you is only expanding.

Just stay please dear god I'll be the warm air and you be the cold,
They will talk of how we were the perfect disaster and I'll form to your mold.

A natural disaster that took out every shutter and nail in its path,
No one saw it coming but they'll all see our rath.

This is the end and I just want to drown my whole soul in it,
I crave your kisses all night and so patiently during all hours I sit.

I am indefensibly in love with you its true,
But i didn't mind I swear it was an honor to be hurt by you.

From each day that dawns
and melts into dark
on this spinning ball
we all make our mark,
I give Thanks

For each day in my life
in which I ‘ve been blessed,
bones from my bones
and flesh of my flesh,
I give Thanks

For the journey I walk
in which I know not the path.
with all of its love
and all of its rath,
I give Thanks

From each day that dawns
and melts into dark
for family and friends,
inspiration that sparks,
I give Thanks

Realize eminem was lust but Kim has it..
Lock down.. on a love madness...
Hell thats sad practice...
If sad meant immaculate gravity
Of happiness...between a mad man
And a divine enchantress...
So I grab.. james mckokis
And transition...
Into woman from a bad habit...
Practically a man click
With a bad ****
Definition... claps the light in
Darkness of Sandberg
Time of sand between two
Sand hands shift...
My mom is spacial cosmic passion
Its wise to grab your chance
And he... Andy... sand man... sand berg
Has the last word....
Is it dog or dmx I love
or is ******* dog ****... become my tragic matter turned to bad word...
*** im rath rapture
In the last saturated hand of black dirt...
Before I bless half earth
With magnetic  aura...
Poring black dirt
Through ashes in a Moira...
Sanctum
My God will be the last verse
Last word
The son asks never the rapture

My god.
You are sacrilege and scared
the creator and the fallen
I sip from your cup
I pray at your temple
I adorn my body with oils.
Yet still, drought seizes the land.
I toil in the fields
I fast in honor of you and your glory
Yet drought seizes the land.
I shed my clothes
I cry upon the holy hill for you to take pity on me
For am I not worthy?
Come upon me, lie with me, and show me your might show me your rath.
vengefulness the old kings whispered about.

and it was still, then rain began to fall across the land

While grating gusts and gales of Winter’s winds
Mourn with a deaf’ning dirge till Spring begins,
Intently and vindictively they’ll look
F’that moral compass found within the book
of such lovingly constructed wording
Of whose heart’s thoughts in our minds is painting
His reflection to grow within our hearts;
Like wisdom to child, their parent imparts.
He transcends any cultural chasm
To reach all hearts before his phantasm.
Clarity of faith by which we can walk
Decanting the love but keeping the cork
As a stopper to stop the willing draining
To those wilfully closed eyes rejecting.

The burring and whirring takes us to task
In battle, futile for the facile mask;
The mask to mask the vacuous content
With razzle-dazzle detracting repent.
Low weaponry the opposition draws
On his ***, so preys on our many flaws.
The things at which he cannot be the best,
Hopeless to attempt, so drags down the rest.
The strength from these words is for us to draw
To fortify the truth and shroud our flaw
From the eyes and lies of the wicked one;
Weakening us ‘till easily undone.

Never must we, so never shall we yield
Lest we gamble that love that we all wield.
The love that is him, not given by whim,
Can and will be found in amongst this din
Of the towns and cities keeping alive
The corrupt, capital world of the lies.
Dangling the bogus carrot of pleasure;
Misdirecting us all from the treasure
Of something more real spiritually
Than anything that’s found posthumously.

For when time grows old, all corners explored,
All things have been sold and all has been bought.
When all has been said and all has been done
With nothing unpainted, ev’rything sung,
All’s been invented, no lines left to write,
No mountain to climb, no evil to fight,
No path left untried, no words left to talk,
No niche unoccupied, no roads to walk.
To surpass anything, where is the hope?
Upon past achievements we will still dote.

All religions, legions and ligaments
Feel full force of their own eradicant.
Once blinded by their own faithful binding
They’ll begin to prove its own unwinding.
Then reluctant eyes open up to see
Their stubbornness was based on fallacy.
By this time now all chances will be spent.
Choices made by those who will now regret
Not seeing what’s evident for all sight
But those whose hearts and eyes they kept shut tight.
Regret will abound for the truth not found.
Eternity in Hades and the ground
Is the only future for the many
Who chase that carrot dangling for jenny.

Ambiguity of a single word
Begs contextual study of the broad.
Only then can a justification
Substantiate their stubborn rejection.
What will fill the void where once there was truth?
Ostensibly only eternal ruth,
Curtailed by the one whose ultimatum
Can be found in that book of verbatim.
The book written to escape the scapegrace
Our only grace and our only solace.

Those grating gusts part, exposing a path
A path enough wide for many a rath,
But the wind which once blew for all idols
Has changed its direction toward idylls.
Softly but certainly the air makes change.
With grating now gone, systems rearrange.
Where one and one equal much more than two,
Longer is forever if it’s just you.
Love is the only, the all, and ever,
The one currency we’ll grow together.

Amen.

Thrown 'round like metal roofs  in
Gales of hurricane winds
Thrashing crash about the nearest stout metal pole
Or as the rush of swollen streams
Back up around the fallen tree
Awaiting release to course again
To flow free to come is known
With nature's gifts of beauty
Grown come hells fury when
A thing stands barricading fleshed release and earthly howls and natures fury shall wrap her legs around your
Furry back like a tigress and a typhoons rath

I loved you on a Monday ..
With florid first impressions , wicked pheromones &
Long Island Teas ..

I declared your hand on a Tuesday with
flowered arches , summer moons &
Champagne ..

I stood onguard in your defense ..
Toiled in the name of our firstborn ..
Hands that bore the shape of the shovel ..
August dog days , November chill-bain ...

Tedious miscalculations
Unprepared peeps fighting-
the Winter rath of February & March ..

A fool loved you a long time ago
Bereft of honesty , destruction that lies-
beneath the surface , cold water & bitter-
herbs ...

thousands of miles hence
human beings just liketh thee and me
art being bomb'd to death
news of mourning families
art being telecast
by hourly news and albeit
w'rld agnizes syria's
up-to-date condition
v'ry few has't seen the pictures of
blood and drops of sorrow and deep t'rr'r
ign'rance at its most wondrous
the west at its most wondrous
can’t we best committ'd
rath'r than reactive
wherefore doest t taketh so much timeth
people to realizeth
yond massacre is occurring
and liveth art being t'rn apart
as we sitteth tranquilly at our dinn'r tables
abundant with pea soup
and roast'd chicken
and want of caring

As I go on again
through the mountains of life
and
I laugh
at lakes of death
dreaming of better days
though they are good right now
wondering what will be
loves first call: kills deaths laugh
and never again
do they feel his rath

cry out in joy
and none will make room
for one small boy
make room make room
I command it so
The death of a hero
Makes the life of the rest
Worth living once more

And better days come
And better days go
And on comes the darkness
Come darkness come
My eyes need the rest
To sow my field in laughter
To **** the joy in others
To free the hate in deep deep wells
And be real once more

war is evil
peace is good
as the world knows well
so truth is hidden
and lies are told
to the heart and to the soul
peace is built on the lies of the many
and war on the truth of the few
many die on battlefields
but more are dead inside

the empty shells that were once nations
the demons that laid inside
the truth comes out and kills the lie
and with it peace and hope and love
Die Die Die

Like a fire in the woods
After death brings life
Based on lies of freedoms
And democracy’s good
But this shell not new
Is breaking too
What new lies will be told
We cannot know
But truth is for far too many
To dangerous to know

That man hates man
And all hate man
And I hate man
Man hates me