Formless

Verse 1:
Unmolded clay to the masses,
you shape me on how you perceive,
rob me of my dignity,
to you,
i'm just another unclean,
unrequited love and friendship,
beggars can be choosers,
you remain alone,
and i'll find others,
ones that'll read this book before judging it's cover.

Chorus:
Unshapen in a void,
chaotic uncrafted,
shapeless in image,
eros ungrafted,

patiently I wait,
my skin,
like stone cobbles,
my heart,
like slate,
building up my walls,
praying it's not too late,


Verse 2:
you fuel a faux friendship,
achieved by cruel politeness,
and you'll lead others on like this,
you mustn't have heard,
likely something you've missed,
better are cruel words from a friend than an enemie's kiss.

Kiss and Cure

You take my breath away,
and leave little chance to regain,
like covering one with atmospheres of water,
no chance of seeing the surface,
not even if I strain,

suffering from tunnel vision,
your visage will never wane,
your kiss, the cure, the antidote,
my lips, the poison, the bain.

Brain Wash

My eyes absorb the filth,
so I irrigate my brain,
to maintain my thoughts,
I abstain from the callous and the vain,
if you're following destruction,
then I guess I'm going against the grain,
sure it's a narrow lane,
and some might think I'm insane,
but your sin leads to pain,
and if I can enjoy joy forever,
then I'll snap my shackles,
and break all my chains,
see I was a slave to sin,
so we're one in the same,
sin was our ancestors claim to fame,
but we're all guilty,
we're all to blame,
but you can find comfort and peace in Jesus name.

Star Shine

If one could peel back the stars they'd find,
that your radiant beauty was their cause to shine,
the stars themselves darkness that parallels the blind,
but can't help but reflect charm that exceeds space and time,

your sheen beyond measure,
with purity that mirrors the Divine,
like a boy catching fireflies,
I can't help but want to make you mine.

White Fire

White with a flow that can decimate black stereotypes,
I spit so much,
you're gonna need to clean up,
here's a wet wipe,
born with style,
my skins got pinstripes,
spittin' white fire,
mics glow like Christmas tree lights,
outta sight,
John Cena can't see me,
Joanna Dark needs a farsight,
you know I'm right when I say you spit trite,
but like Bob Marley said,
everything's gonna be alright.

A Lament to St. Valentine

Alas,
even in the days of winter,
birds still pair,
empty nested I sing,
a dirge to my despair,
perchance a raven will listen,
a fan of macabre fair,
I am but a crow,
with hopes of nest to share.

Check Yourself

Man, you can't even write a cogent simile,
vain, got your talents from Mephistopheles,
I'll flex this vocab like Samson mixed with Keats,
a poetic Heracles,
word scores so large it'll make you weak in the knees,
you're worried about gettin' that golden fleece full of fleas,
ignoring your duties to the Prince of Peace,
that golden piece that dangles 'round your junk,
now that's disrespect,
but what should I expect,
sometimes I don't think you've got something above the neck,
you've failed to check yourself,
and now you're wrecked,
a total mess,
but hey,
at least you look good,
and they admire the way you dress,
but sonny jim you can only impress the Divine with what's inside your chest,
are you following His will, or listening to Him less.