[Spoken]

In that case...

Shed some light for the shadows behind,
A beckoning stride that mends all thoughts in the mind.
Clovers with lights- the yellow brick road to the odds
Defying the broads of service; screeching nightmares W/ claws.
Who is to call so that the murders complacent,
Dodging of statements that link to emotions adjacent.
Freddy or Jason- a nightmare wanting fear instilled,
Taking the pills that dampens our psychological will.
Baggage to fill- the opposite of taking advantage to kill,
A soul reason for extinction of what doesn't seem real.
The hourglass in the green house, an inevitable cycle,
Turning the pipings that floods the strain of survival.
.
.
.
These words seem indistinct and just scattered for show,
The writing displays itself to put warmth out in the cold.
Line for line- I write for time tracing as a outline glow,
Grunge effect- the canvas was pale now it's a clarity probe.
Massive with growth- I build a plot to manage the flow,
Incarceration; my mind is bars that cannot elope.
Classical rope that tightens each chance that its thrown,
The lasso of strokes; my quill inks with each angle approached.
Times we evoke to dab certain rhymes just cope,
But the scope that magnetizes never fancies me quotes.
Passionate hope; writing to be drastically fed,
Passing of led, put a new meaning of hangin' by a thread.

Writing as slaves seems to keep the doctor away
-a nuisance of progression.. Or so it seems