I'm just a body of my immortal soul No stop from walk after once start of beat is my goal Because I seek no high but to survive And stop to this mortal is opposite of alive
I pray no more for I wish to be like a tree To keep on growing forever and free My leaves will fall and I will dry But my new branch will replace and I'll not die
I'll not let the positive calm me, watching the grass Because the tall trees will cast shadow for my thirst I'll not cast any but stand same, share grass my manure As this mortal seek no success high but fear failure
They forewarn me about the betrayals I am about to face, Not knowing how suspicion has been ingrained into every cell of mine, Having betrayed myself A million times already, That now I don't confide the truth even in myself. And then they ask me Why am I so cryptic.
My grandmother sits on the edge of her bed where medicines are not too far away and resting isn't a task but her hands never move in straight lines, they sway, uneven, unsure and she sleeps with a curved back.
I was taught in school that lines were vertical and horizontal and oblique But life never comes in straight lines and nothing ever is parallel everything intersects and moves apart like the falling edges of an inverted smile.
I'd exhale the spring and its flowers for, my love, Hades but he gifted me a crown made of the bones of his victories, flowers would wither away, but my essence, if only, could linger long after the cold dark winter seems inevitably forever.
Within my body exists something cryptic: Imparts disheartened mollifying, Allows thundering muteness, Pacifies heart's melodrama, And the brain yearns for my existence!