From my desk I compose
A blueprint of nature
A mysterious gun I suppose
Can you imagine the stature?
...
I look high and above...
Low and behold, I see things.
My hopes were up and my miracle was nigh...
I see things,
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Tears from my lover's eyes
In silence like a peaceful sky
Gutters on her cosmetic face
What a sincere cry I face
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For you Sir, I write these rhymes,
To your personality's frequent shines.
I thank you with my whole heart,
And believe you'll treasure my art.
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O! Heavens, how did we know we could make it?
It never has to be a question because faith exists
But is it just faith? No it ain’t just faith
I so much believe there is something more than faith
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Some doubt if she’s ever gona be a beautiful queen
Something with value or anything close to that…
O! Ye men of little faith,
Thou art never would believe there would be a thing like perfect
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The mind is foolish to think the clock is wicked.
When the gap between times is closing up
The days get so tick like hamattan fog and
The nights refuses to wake from sleep.
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A heartless man's soul
Belongs to the devil.
He traded it for a cigar.
He now has no soul.
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I desire you with ardor Utopia!
But I can only imagine you.
I loose sight of you,
When I think about you.
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A man was running in January.
A hen started chasing him in February.
I started chasing that hen in March.
So many hens started chasing me in April.
...