[veritas]

I stopped rhyming on purpose.
Surely you haven’t noticed.

Because that focus is hopeless from caskets with roses.
My prose is your ghost left in repose with no postage.
My flow is the coldest we’ve always all known this
All alone where this zone is.
You can hone in an hone it
Until I suppose it’s….
I just black holed it.
Oops.
I lied. You died. Preside where you can’t reside.
Either hands or mind, fucking wit mines, is like signing for suicide
I influence ya mind like genjutsu, using your mind as it’s own disguise
Ain’t never been what your used to, aborting tries from beyond the skies
Never penning no lies, never pensive, I strive.
Realize.

One in a million ain’t even a fraction close
Quantum electron leader of the faction
Jon Connor folks
Wit no need for grammar spinning phantom spokes
Wheel in a wheel
Do you see the pattern folks?
You can’t even die-gest, so why should I rhyme or?
should I get vie-lent, and then they all die, yes?
Not my circus, not my monkeys, nothing survives pure.
Still close to the streets like San Francisco junkies pushing the cure.