Alpha

Am I the son or the man? An abomination to the non-believers, So I switch to my spiritual mode Casting veils on my foes, Its a battle of self love Such is modern times, Losing self in the process- Pressing self destruct, The red button looking shiny: "uh How tempting"....! My poetry sounds like written verses: The irony, always in first person So I sound direct to my readers! Fusing words with thoughts Like matter entwining with gravity, The magical world: Making sure that I capture the work; The great ingredients! From potions to spells, chants and invocations but a weirdo to my classmates: "Curse those heathens cause they love- hating" Man its strange And strange just got stranger The chronicles of a minor To a major, no layers just layouts, Cosmic forces interrupting my presence So I document in verses- From being sentenced to writing sentences, A scholar with a ship so I'm shipping- My dreams across the seven seas, Gotta find Atlantis: my lost dreams.