Visionist
Perspective of a man not old, walking on the glass of thought
Thugs in alleys plotting on life, the concept of wrong I’ve caught
Life can end now or not, facing the plight and reason for creation
Output stuck inside of the captured, suffocated fears, deprived masturbation
No physical relation, call him father, allow his teachings to mend hurt
Gang signs and guns are the norm, false idols elevating everyone’s temper
Breath can either be simpler, or destruction walks the isle of a wedding
In between the sheets, hearts beat, spend an eternity aggravated and dreading
This location earns the setting, late night terrorism yields bed wetting
Foes forced to be neighbors, a connection that’s worth a generation forgetting
Enter my path, God keeps letting, so I consume all, tests of the incoherent
Ear drums shriek at the sound of fear, the end captivates once you get near it
A race of bastards set upon clearance, molding their psychological being
Dreams distract the vomiting reality, pen’s relax nerves, keep me sleeping
Cold driven steps where ancestors cried, a fence broken from enemies attempts
Ignorance is bliss, education is a myth, so pride and arrogance became their defense
…not mine…
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