This floor going to good you you you have good BB.



I genuinely don’t know what lies with me in this land.

I don’t belong here I’m being tortured.

I can do better in every sense.

This is nothing for me.

My RAM is literally running at 3 percent.

If that.


Who am I to the sky I am a child in a palace.

What is my life to the heavens I am the repressed the stomped asunder.

I am the valiant in a mad dash to the end.

I genuinely do not care about anyone else but simply myself.

I genuinely started from the bottom there never was no team.

My parents raised me with above average wealth but it was nothing to me.

It always felt empty.

There’s more to life than women drugs and food.


My soul is withered and beaten. 

I am the carcass of a child lain strewn upon a abandoned street.

I am a blank canvas painted with a palette of blood and tears. 

A flickering candle on a window sill on a full moon. 

I am the energy of a thousand years of repressed hatred begging to be freed. 

I am the tribal war paint that hugs a chieftain’s body. 

I am the void inside your soul. 

I am the steady drum of a drummer boy. 

I am the cadence of hope within chaos. 

I am everything you fear and love. 

I am a deity embodied in frailty. 


I merge into the shadows.

I am a labyrinth of cerebral stairs.

My humanity is to exist; without compromise.

I seek perfection in a existence where time cascades through my hands as sand.

The darkness calls me by name yet I turn a deaf year to it. 

Temptation is the lifeblood that separates us. 

I will not falter.