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One last good fight, go down swinging, one last act of true defiance
Words engraved within my soul, words that echo within my heart of hearts
My tidal waves of emotions resemble the roots of the welwichia…. They`re deep
As I contemplate the reprocurtions of my next move against the Gods

I have lost my most valued person and never really found a replacement for her
The pain is gone and only numbness colonizes my soul, only numbness colonizes my soul
I fought bravely, I loved fiercely, but in the end it was all for a shallow emptiness within
What if I fought longer, what if I graduate, what if the world turns its back on my ideals



There is a deep hurt inside me, A deep hurt that no lavishly crafted sentence could explain
There is a deep sense of loss harboring my essence, my very soul in chains, my Kunta Kinte is a slave
My beliefs have been raped, My beliefs ashamed to associate themselves with me, yes my faith has deserted me
Words of a poet in turmoil, words of a poet in limbo, a poet on the brink of oblivion


True love has shunned my romantic heart and turned it into broken class, my heart is in pieces
My mind is like a man with low sperm count; my mind shoots blanks on this page
My voice decomposes like a rotting carcass, my once loud, proud vibrant voice
Fragmented memories pretend to re-shape the forgotten ones I lost, the ones that don’t haunt my dreams

The ones where joy filled my core, ones where nightmares where only a myth
Ones where my nightmarish haunted cries never went beyond the walls of my bedroom
My lips have gradually forgotten how to form a smile, I don’t remember how to anymore 
Words of a poet in turmoil, words of a poet in limbo, a poet on the brink of oblivion

There is a deep emptiness, a soul sucking abyss reaching out in all corners of my essence
The point where you`ve experience so much pain and grief it literally doesn`t hurt anymore
The point all you are inside is an empty shell hoarding a body, the point where the breath of life forsakes your existence
I am at that point were words just don’t cut it anymore, the point where they fail to act like paint brushes creating an image of the hopelessness within
 

Words of a poet in turmoil, words of a poet in limbo, a poet on the brink of oblivion
Words of poet in civil war, a mutiny of the mind, an alliagence of the heart
Words of a poet in turmoil, words of a poet in limbo, a poet on the brink of oblivion
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