angellic sounds developed deep within tha chambers,
where brains cyper ideas, thoughts, tha lost are found/
where words surround and drown out the reality,
my fallacy breathes, my falshood found a sanctum/
poetic scriptures take minds on trips to pain,
thru my window the beholder determines beauty/
read my persona on tha paper, as my fight insues,
thru times, to describe my life to u thru these lines/
thru minds i touch hearts, kill fears, seek joy,
live pain, bleed sorrow, tha sun speaks to its boy/
the seas and skies are crimson, tha grass is blue,
blood is green, my world, w/ this paper i am GOD/
w/ these rhymes i connect cultures, and feed wisdom,
inspiration to tha people, uplift w/ ink that seeps to/
tha dark places in time bringing hope and light,
ingulf tha soul, console strife, my pens nature....