Damned Perfection
The topic is relevant from the start…essential only to the open spirit and mind,
A servant of true heart,lonely in a dimension of art where true lyrics are combined,
Words spoken before their time…a token to the apotheosis he himself redefined,
Metamorphosis on his rhymes every line with a divine passion for intensive torment,
Expressing with his own blood and pain,his love for the bane flowing in a torrent
inside his veins…Creative current storming his brain, deforming space like cocaine...
He is just what there isn’t…perfection with a reason…a reflection of the enigmatic,
Imprison words in the orbit of a morbid static…the mathematical ovule of nothing,
In his cursed rule he’s an erratic…Scavenging on his undigested thoughts of a vatic,
Ravaging his excellence infested thoughts like a pestilence from the dark ages,
Mental opulence rephrased in sentimental cages as a loophole from perfect hypostasis,
But bounces like a hyperbole from fate’s protected pages…A dejected humble slave,
Sequential damned to eternally pave at every creation the precedential’s one grave,
To crave for a foolish mind…To wish for ears that are deft and eyes that are blind,
To bind magical words for the years he has left, To forever apotheosize his design…
Captive in a vicious circle of creativity, viciously adapting inanity into something,
Thoughts rotting from nothing into geniality as a result of the mould of divinity,
Slowly departing into the metaphysics of lyrics, forever trembling his own past,
A lonely and damned spirit…knowing no ending,he forever must surpass his last…
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