#rhythmandflow

Draw out your words speedily with steady precision....

Spit truth out like it's venom, make a mental incision....

Mount your words with stature, let its message stand tall and...breath life into every comma and pause....

Move boldly with strokes of genius with pieces of u scripted takes foretold....

See sense through the calligraphy of jotted words unrivalled by thoughts....

Unravelled by those who wrote poems and liberation songs....

For those who wrote for the emancipation of entire generations armed and bound by war....

Bare your scars proud like scars from a former battle...

Unravel Earth's core with the bombastic rythms of your tremour...

Bellow low, bare your scars of war with pride for the lyrical shapeshifter breeds in the night ....

And in the night I right and in the night I recite...and in my right frame of mind I bare my scars of war with pride...

With the aim to ignite what's write what's true...

What's embedded within me and you and in you lies truth....

Ravaged senseless..salvaged regardless fore and you ....

See...pierced palms and feet replenished mankind...

Abba's grace had been amplified then, concentrated by diluted views...

By delusion-filled mass genocides that killed that youth...

Our views have been compromised idealized views are what govern our soul and we fail to realize...it's true essence it's absence.... extracted from me and you ...

And dangled around like dead bodies the youth are...

Lost in a see of translation... extraterrestrial penetration....

Detaching our peace of mind with mo peace in mind and they encased our views and imprisoned the truth...

I bare my scars of war not as a flaw....

But as an embellishment of hope foretold ions ago....because even our fate...had been weighed upon the stars and the enchanted revines of Mars...

And it was ours but like thieves in the night they stole our pride...

They ripped off our arms and used them as ornaments...

They displayed dissected and mutilated...

Our pride..had been stripped and paraded away by their son's like stars....

Leaving only the dark...

And in the dark we revise in tongues the secret scriptures infused in our palms....

The secret scriptures in which we bare arms...

And in the night...

Like shadows of our former selves..

We roam the lands of our forefathers.... like visitors of a foreign kind.