Creativity of the Matrix (Old Style)

The creativity of the mind is endless like this time. No time is congruent, but voluptuousness with cupids. Reality is for the taking, but it's also breaking/the walls are escaping, under the nose of all, but who sees the fall will enjoy how tall one can get, as symbols and reality is beyond measure of true love/so much confusion, but nothing to back up this mass confusion/one can feel and re-clined to diss and dismiss, as something so real, cannot be this real...

But it's as real, as you enjoy the air you breath, you speak without needing to seek, you see without being able to touch and you hear without being able to hear, once all the five senses come into your view, something like the 6th sense comes too display itself with grace, it was hidden, but then re-appeared like when animals speak/it hears and feels like plants do, it sees like the sky does,

Stop re-applying the masks passed down from Ancients, we are the designer of this Matrix/no need to confuse the true feelings with your calling/as you know deep inside yourself, what your worth is, and what you need...

And the reason I spit is for you to see, as I take away the fog in your purity/confusion in wordless monsters is not inside your closet, but inside your walls.

Nasty Creatures

Disgusting drums full of throttle pain

Beating into my window

They are waiting for me they tell me

Voices bear a resemblance to what I saw and heard when I was younger

On my wall, there were six of them

One big one and five little ones

Whispering to each other as if they were ready to take a bite off me

I was asleep but awoke as I heard sounds

To my surprise there they were

Shadows on my wall

They creeped in slowly into my view

Went through me like gliding compassion

However, I got nothing more but strangled with their negativity

My positive energy was there for their taking

After words, I felt empty inside

My heart was then broken in

I thought I could love myself

But it has been a battle since

Confused and believe I am dreaming

But most tell me I am awake

A girl I knew who gave me her life

She took those broken pieces and put it back together

But my negativity rubbed off her

I continued going into paralyzed mode of shakes

When I would dream my body would throb

They were trying to contact me

They continue doing so

I try to ignore them

But they creep in slowly

There are many of them

I met many good ones too

But they feed on my negative thoughts and energy

Life of Lost Treasures

A sporadic life of a genius

Busted onto the scenes

Grieving over the lost treasures

And ancient emptiness

Human consumption of the soul

Without all the labels

Defined in lost memories of gaining all

But waking up from a dream of a white Christmas

And getting all but purity

How perfect will reality be if all

The presents were wrapped under a Christmas tree…

The joy of always being in the mood

For abundance travels to the farthest

Space

And the highest pedigree of numerology

Of 2222 and or even 3333

Confusion in the number is all

But tunnel vision storm

Across the street

In the home that were built to offer security

But what comes out is devils ways

Of a father and sometimes a mother

These words are in shambles

So what about his life?

Would trusting a soul/source like his?

Be a mastery of themselves

Or nothing but a bucket list of

More confusion…

Burn Me at the Stakes

Burn me at the stakes of this evil storm

Pain burns through me like laser beams of lighting

Sometimes living is not for certain

As devil over bears your heart with cold desires

You keep fighting for one single happy tear to drop

But blood comes out from strangling your veins

Where empty white space bears its name

World does not forgive

The violence off chocking yourself in your own sleep

As suicide thoughts come out often

I bear my broken heart to the world and people feel a lot of pain

But I feel like stomping on it

To finish off their illusions

The voices in my head are not violent

I just know for certain

How

I will drop begotten into a coffin

But nah, I am for ashes being thrown into the ocean

So waves of purity take me back to my creator…

Kingdom of Magick

Let him believe in the magical kingdoms of heaven

Where the father of life resides

Purity underlined in the stars, but congested to fit into a picture perfect photo

Develop the endangered story mode through the cycle of re-birth

The singing watercourse will beat against your ears in the summer

The magical entrappings will beg to ask you to start crying

But feelings of acceptance and compassion is below the divine seclusion

Words of understanding is trapped in a puzzle like mode of tears

Blood will get upon your sleeves in order to ask for direction

Do not swoosh it away, but point your index finger to the stars

Provide the same opportunity as this life gives a young infant

The execution of rapist and killers is attainment of nothingness

Question and discredit all you hear

As whoring out your words is unclear

Especially in a place like our fairy tale dream like state

We live in

Relationship with Life

A choice of a majority

Confusion of probability

Mathematics of the fortunate

Relationships of infinity

Balance the chakras in the astral view

Property ending world over sending truth

Purity defined by stars of Astrology

But fusion of minds a combination of love united

Truth of a peaceful sleep, in tenor the wolf of glee

Beauty encompassed to bring the thunderous roars throughout the jungle

Fever with a heart monitor combined to bring some kind of cycle

Unwind and untie the grasp of fingertip bliss

As things are looking grim

But definition of symbols are encoded

Throughout the nature of trees and oceans

Divided without the conqueror and inspired by the control up-above

What is one to do, but question?

If he is even awake or in a dream state or wakeful beginning of nothingness…

Illusion System

Illusion of the system, in my third view visions/

Encompassing decisions/

In my precision/

As level of energy, binds the soul of congruency/

My feelings of grieving is in a battle with entities from other dimensions of slavery…