Dexsta Ray

Gold Star - 19,328 Points (March 8,1994 -)

Complexes - Poem by Dexsta Ray

Over time, it weigh on you
Bolder lines, to control your mind, only I'm afflicted
Concerning that, evil, on the grinds
In sequels
Of conditioning, to place me in cycles, of satan game
That I ain't play, but demons'd roast me with rivals
I'd see, and opened my Bible, the Light, complexes
Melts away upon, arrival of the Most, inferior, from loads of impositions
Thrown, when it was vital, instilling codes, likesome mini systems
Many issues, picked up, impressions, some things continued with you
Or, at least, the way it was meant, but I ain't with the miscue
Numerous, are complexes
Humorous, to who do it, keep a broken man in shambles
Foolishness to subdue what's right, and types of plights arranged
Silently, to hide and maime, hated by what hate the Light
In spite of He, the kinds of things I know, safe, I know I ain't
Because the Bible showed the truth
Persecuted for His sake, the righteous still are bold for You
And strong, just from Your Throne upholded
Sabotaged by wicked rulers
Twisted, confirmation biased, stuff was satan sided
From the jump, can't take that type of stand, it's just set up
To help to hide some hand
A crisis then
Lies disbanded, overlooked, until some kind of wile was planned
Or scammed, but either way, attribute that to some complex
Diminish that enough, like witches, scheme with magic and
It's savage, speaking badness, even malice, evil tactics
But I love women
Such a difference
Such don't owe me nothing period, plus God said to love regardless
But those constants wasn't funny, such a darker time
It's hard to not mention that, somebody's trying to save some lies
To guard a lot did with that
And hide the facts with smart disguises and I'm not feeling that
My shards are shattered, different sizes, I cannot get up glass
With just my hands, but still I heart it, like my shock is a fan
But it's complexes, some may argue, old, the ancient stuff
Just ain't enough, confirmation biases, to lies
I ain't know haters sunt, using those excuses just to pry and to invade my stuff
Never mixed the match, and if I'm needed, what I'm hated for?
If I say what's right, I get defeated ‘cause stuff ain't a buck
Wait until I die, overreaching proof, "I made it up" then
Over time, it weigh on you but my Savior's great
Want me in the gutter just to easily erase my place...
Some say I did stuff I been proved just ain't the case
When really I ain't cool enough because I'd choose to stay with ‘Weh...
With faith, I pray, remain with Light, for it's the usual
But on the spirit side, this is beautiful...
Was in wars that I ain't even know include the Lord
I held onto the Light while trapped in paths, ain't know the blueprints for
There never was a competition
I pursued the Lord
The spaces wasn't straight lines, the same Guide
Was just the Spirit...

Topic(s) of this poem: life, truth

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Poem Submitted: Monday, April 8, 2019

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