Who Knows?
Who Knows
For which, whoever hears me, may
she take up responsibility
for I speak to the ancestors
to let me make this one my own
and ne`er give as oblation
O`er all that intent I have
Priced it like a pearl
giving lavender in exchange
churning every memory with hyssops sprinkle oints of aloe
To make this icon all blend
looking a`wop
making anthems for the crows
and `em making a symphony
of two graced together
dark days and times
despair clouding the moments
everything super anthills
one after another pulling out
no remnants of `know` left
just a bare turk of tuft
illusions by the owls
an early chilling moon
presiding over the matters
like green mamba
the master of the living green
which splits venom, provoked
this icon,
stops my thoughts from wandering
and now, me, haulting
shoeing to where is the mistress
it`s nothing but philos
encompassed using a nob
to rob the senses of humans
it is sure a venom
powerful through
it`s a voice from the dome
like of freight lifted by builders
to summon an immortal feeling
feeling of desire, want
when the voice is diced
nothing` left but craft
of little say but a feeling
created by two `wop
making it a sinister union