Why my people, have we debased ourselves so?
The crys that were once for freedom and equality, have turned into those of nigga and ho
Closed minded squabbles, morale shattering attitudes
No longer does an upraised fist represent a certain power for such a race as we
We the many, the fractured, the ignorant.
The rump shakers, the gun clappers, the arrogant.
Desperately insistent on the violence, not the peace
Confrontation has become a sixth sense, Death a close seventh
And through this time, only one qoute fits it all
One bathed in just as much ignorance as truth
“Niggas be trippin!”
tumblrbot asked: WHERE WOULD YOU MOST LIKE TO VISIT ON YOUR PLANET?
Japan. The birthplace of spaztic randomness.
Here I lay in this room devoid of sound
silent as awinter’s midnight, and just as harsh
quiet as open space, the deepest darkest abyss
halting the would be vibrations that is sound instantaneously
as if forseeing my bleak attempt at audible refuge
the silence I once cherished
has become my most beloved enemy
consoling me in my pain
yet isolating me from love
it understands me
yet is completely oblivious of me
yet the deepest and most unseen part of my being
both my refuge in form of a prison
and an asylum in form of paradise
and still the sweetest poison yet is
though in my silent room? prison? paradise?
where I am isolated from the pain and love
and my peace might shatter
I may scream
I do not.