im sittin in a puddle of my own devotions
devoid of all logic or sense of emotion
feels like the sensation your floating
this end knows lips stay consistently closed
from persistent erosion by predictable motions
our conscripted hope leads to perscription dope
positioning told..
written like inscriptions in gold.
it fades with time, beauty's in the eyes of a beholder
each toy soldier's emboldened by chance
locked in the necromancers dance
we walk across molten lava to solve ya problems
just cuz ya never taught options soften the blow
ya know i'm droppin tha flow
leave em bodied like a sarcophagus doe
Last edited by asylum; 10-25-2015 at 05:10 AM.
|