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Hey guys, check out the newest song I did with Charlie Zero! Let me know what you think!
Oh, how your light gleams in the recesses of my heart
Fore, it could not have been touched; the ink is too deep
But as your love seeps, Divine Nectar begins to taste sweet
So, so sweet
It’s sugar to the touch and ecstacy to the look
I’d give it all up to see your radiant smile
That special touch
So, so sweet
But I hold no attachments without the curious limbs of a child
I’ll grip you tightly and never let go…
Hey guys, I have recently put up all of my finished songs onto my Soundcloud – so if you’re interested in hearing some passionate, underground hip-hop/alternative rap music with fruitful messages, please check me out!
Hey guys, check out my newest song – Water! Let me know what you think! If you like it, please share!
Here’s a song I made for a special someone. Please enjoy ^_^
Hey guys, I finished my first mixtape. Thanks to all of the producers who created these wonderful beats. So listen with me as I look for my mind. Tell me what you think and share if you like ^_^ PEACE and LOVE! 😀
There was always something nostalgic about Autumn. Since I wait for the bus just about every morning, I’ve been given the opportunity to watch the gradual change of scenery around me. The leaves slowly swap their clothes. They are first a lavish green, then they change into vibrant oranges, reds, and yellows to express their individuality – much like I. The vast array of tones naturally attracts the curiosity of human eyes. So, I gaze in absolutely awe as the barking trees are left alone. The leaves have now been disconnected from their caregivers. Without parachutes, they sink through the soothing air unto the ground and dress Gaia with a colorful coat, totally disregarding the parents which have given them life. Or perhaps – the misunderstood leaves are martyrs which sacrifice their lives with hopes that the next generation will prosper. Just perhaps. They then harden their exterior to suppress all connections with external understanding, openly coinciding with the harshness and cruelty of physiology. We truly do not understand them. We even blindly press our shoe-covered feet against them and their friends to verify their reasoning.
It’s a multi, not universe, if seen this way. All which exists has its own existence. And in my existence, I enjoy the nature of misunderstanding — fore I am naturally misunderstood, just as the leaves. But Autumn — She explains Herself wordlessly in a cyclical fashion. And Autumn is not reluctant in expressing fashion. She blows the chilling breath of Yuki-onna as I sit on what remains of where leaves once remained. Because of this, She changes people. My friend, on the other hand, is not like I, but is gripped by my cold, right hand. The legacies of the trees which host the leaves are also beneath the tarred ink of my friend. This pen, it depicts the organized structure of spoken language in encrypted form. I sit and write about writing and sitting whilst Autumn massages my tense muscles. I hear the distant rumbles of wood seeking attention around me. Over barren time, they dance in the harmony of Autumn’s breath, longing for recognition. I realize that I’ve recognize them, but then my thoughts shift – just as the seasons. In turn, I only wait for Autumn to come just so that I may watch her leave. I put my friend down, but in order to protect myself from Her full potential, I cover myself with Gaia, steadily walk to the end of a concrete driveway, and wait for a bus.
We face upwards towards your email in a world full of sunshine and rainbows. It’s a very mean and nasty place, but it’s okay how tough you are. You’re featured in a maze. The room rulebook is going to hit as hard as the “real,” but it’s about to reboot. It’s about Hardy, the Big Blue, and how much any color… could. To keep struggling – it’s all about.
Products are prescribed for life saving. Don’t be something you’re not and continue to walk shadows in the air with the puzzle. I’m re-fighting to showcase my college as long as the children come to a loss and stop his Olympic Games by the paths where cars cross.
In the censorship Smart-Brief, there are those who believe in “yes.” We’ll see the hopes of how she plans to loser her compositions. People close my heart in order to loosen a racial slur. Shots are a hard step. Yes, both of course, although plans for Friday will work in the sun. No small shows, mom. I was going to take charge of my eyes, but I’m searching to see if you’re my neighbor for sure.
In crime percentage, a state shakes and waits for settlement rates to desecrate my shape. I have the right to solve that problem. These songs of songs – they are closed to my friends who have roles to watch. YOU, the whole, won’t stop the people from falling by going to watch it live. Yeah, balls-balls to myself. Sold given up home is not guy. Huge, new this moment-nations in the world consume the situation in order to deal with it as an open book.
She is very complacent. She’s the worst Martinez of problems with certain chronic ear-pieces. It is of my heart before it’s all in black and white. With whatever, there is no need to buy tickets and anticipate this year’s comment of the day. They were set aside and his nephew shot down the government sites. James is missing in the sunset.
Is it even merely a reflection, my life? For quite a piece of time, I’ve just sat idly and watched the same scenery. But, perhaps instead of waiting for a change, maybe I should try and enjoy, rather – embrace the “norm.” Even still, I’d like to experience something new. Although all that I go through is unique to me, life just inevitably seems dry. Maybe if I meet the person I’ve sought for all of these lifetimes, the black void inside of me may become filled.
I do not know for absolute certain. I ask myself, “how long am I going to wait,” but my lack of understood patience keeps me stranded inside of a vicious cycle. One, which no matter how much I try to change, becomes a great test from the Universe. Do I have to fulfill a specific destiny, where I walk a path to get where I must be – where my responsibilities lie, or do I create my own future with the impressions of chalk on a board? Have I been granted the ability to carve out my own trail instead of wandering aimlessly, waiting for the most subtle of variation?
I cannot keep calm and respond in accordance. My temper spirals out of me in reaction to the vile negativities of where my physical resides. But this collection of energies, this EARTH PLANE of ours, a unit of our multi-verse, my humble home – it strains me so. There are so many conflicted visions and ideals; it seems that destruction by the wealthy and wicked is upon the misguided mind of influence. If I, with my individuality, cannot breathe for myself, then why – WHY was a brain bestowed beneath the fortress of my skull?
I am not a Sheppard to the sheep, but if I was meant to be, would it be revealed to me? I can barely keep pace with the flowing ideas concocted by my hasty fingers. I type to a means where I can express these incomprehensible feelings of mine, but is it for my well-being in due time? Should I even ask questions in rhyme?
Would they confuse my subconscious mind into seeking what I do not even consciously recall expressing? Does my seated soul understand my needless desires? Why would I be given the option to question with responsive skepticisms of dissonance? Perhaps it’s even more just for me to understand, so I ask and then fulfill my tasks – whatever they may manifest themselves as.
My mind, our minds. Me, we. We all tie in together as an intertwined patchwork of anomalies, seamlessly stuck inside of purgatorial flames with feeble hopes of escape. We’re all animals inside of a cage either way. So what’s the point of trying if we’re just killing for fulfillment and then are reminded by our Karmas , which retort our malicious deeds, that there is vision of a fruitful future? I ask, then again, I wait.