better in sync w eternity
its hard to turn away when there's something to say,
and its hard to star gaze when there's nothing to pray,
things can be amazing when white and black become gray,
but its an elusive in-between that often runs stray,
then its time to take a step back; an inspiration setback,
garnishing through the sounds mortars make to express rap,
and if my heart stops beating, or my bowels start leaking,
promise my words will be hieroglyph-ed in tombs where
pharoahe souls are steady creeping,
see the passion in my eyes float away after some heavy breathing,
and watch me drift off into the milky ways of voided reason,
but of course you can strip me from the black holes of jaded dreaming,
reality is a gift learned through petty treason,
and the heart knows the unknown from the trials purpose seeking.
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