It’s hard to hold back tears during these times I live in
The pain that holds me at night shows me
The cries of young ones paraded through the news
What’s more important?
Their souls? Or your polls and ratings?
Tell me cube-box man, and as you do, rid the pretense you wear
I did not fly from the land of earth to see another deceit coated with gold
Those souls you parade as your prize
Are they worth the shame you bring on them?
Their lives as movies, their voices lost in the sounds of doom
Moments they exist in, washed – rearranged to fit your screen
Like black on black
White on white, right!
If you show me your own heart
I’ll show you my mine
That one side you refuse to show
One sided: face of death, that’s all you show
But you forget, we all know two-face survived that night
Alive and willing to show all his burns and scars
Though his ways are seen as dirt and mud
Still he shows all the sides we humans wear
Inwards and outwards, full blown


The complicated rhymes
Rewriting the name Jesus
Every suit preaches
Yeah, they saw him
Some walked on water
Other saw Moses
Flaws none have
Perfected reflections
Always accepting glorified pieces
Tongues twirl when gold pours on
Smiles widen when watches strap on
By the steps, or in pockets
Feeding the luxurious beggar
Not soul, rather in taste
Nothing holy about that water

Read part i here

The Crocodile City

The city stank of death and utter desolation. Many dirty gutters were scattered all over the city showering their many unwanted blessings to those who dared to breathe.

The city was abundantly filled with platinum lies;

“Records of misdirected words

Mixed with a rejuvenated beast

Marked with a line of ill

Too ill to spill puke

Too insane to sniff coke

How far, too long

Till she shakes off her pride

And then all that was wrong spins around

Back along that same place

Where honey tasted better than sex

There she lay, the Queen of the night, deep inside the city of crocodiles.”