THE OPEN MIC CYPHER

[Split]

if I was gonna steal shit from ancient scriptures,
copy down a picture, be an artist leecher,
every single verse would feature repetitious diction,
line about preacher, nobody stays, intrinsic lack of love,
poetic fiction relays academia, drugs, negligence of children,
a semblance of attention paid to discontent of millions,
but my sixth sense contends deceased hold no intuition,
for the wishes of the dead speak not for the icy breath they leak
but to warm themselves with living breath on their neck
Just out of reach