Just a Lighthouse in the fog trodden land is broke in the clouds…
The ghosts of the lamppost tend to open their mouth…
Cloud formations float and mold into verse…
The fog lifts and tumbleweeds roll in reversed…
Role is reversed, felt the becoming, uncouth…
A tear drop, I fear not of the fountain of youth…
Arrive draped in darkness, grasping the past’s Grail…
This is the one time that I could shed the Black Veil…
Breathe on my chest till the goose bumps form…
Sleep and rest in the fountain where the truth’s so warm…
The Lighthouse of Death illuminates the horizon…
On Sundays I arrive at the mountain and rejuvenate the Sirens…
Just for the company, purposely, I meant though-
Now that you’re stranded, Will you play me in Nintendo?
The brain’s gears turn, as for thoughts, produce few…
We don’t need to smoke here, just hide like we used to…
The time we owe dues to and seek nothing,
Get youthful, and never notice the Fog of the Bleak coming…
Which depends on cash assets, jobs that pack caskets…
You may not worship Jesus, yet you don’t attend the black masses…
That sting in their lesson, fire of adult wings cling to the brethren…
Due to this fire, not even the Fountain can extinguish the present…
Demonic banquets vanquish the Youth and the backlash…
The current drowns the Present, you only breathe in a flashback…
Schizophrenic diseases replenish in the grey that I mention-
what happened before you sold your soul and started paying Attention…
let me engage you…
So,
I'm at the top of the mountain listenin' to echoes shouting.
I Know I'm heading south, and I reminisce all my doubts and
tribulations while the happiness pours out my pores like a fountain.
Distilled within it lies youth, you bevilled
with this picture I've bestilled; The park N how I was thrilled;
My smile: accompanied by the cutest dimples, and the feeling it filled
now erased by the drool that trickles down that same cheek!
I Used to play ball N tell myself "It won't be this simple next week."
So I made sure the Praxises were a little past bleek.
Now I Dwindle incomplete; I was number eleven in that fleet,
now at school games I dont have a benched seat....Close by
I look at the drop that contains my original nose, eyes,
belly, hands and feet. Then I wonder if this globe tries
to lay down the brush strokes right....But all I know's sight,
and it shows me the rap battles I'd have Adverse ghostwrite!
But, Now im on my own souls plight, like when i decided to hold tight
and saved my cousin! She doesn't owe life, she owes luck,
and owes the fact i don't visit her all drugged when showin up!
But I visit this fountain after growin' up; Life was slow enough
to be forgotten; Now it could show me why the goings rough.
"Show me much" I ask of it, as I swallow the water from it.
This isn't a fountain of youth, It's a fountain of me at my Summits,
and i don't drink it because I'm a knowledge hungry dumb bitch,
I drink to remember acceptance, like brunch tables and lunch its.....
Cyanide to the innocence and experience, the combination-
The fountain untouchable because of this complication…
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Originally Posted by AL CAPONE
