August 29, 2016


Hold on a minute, stop, full halt,

And tell yourself it’s all from the vault.

Once in tune, then quickly lose tone,

Voice lock, the tongue becomes stone.


Sails getting winds, but why is the water so shallow,

Where a little storm can just be busting your halo.

Try the escape route but the door no longer works,

and the self-medication no longer buries the framework.

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Weak Is Not My Name

August 19, 2016


Throughout the times I’ve busted, left out in the rain and slightly rusted, what dreams were truly trusted, to the only god we should have ever entrusted?

In and out of internal jail, the spirit inside to hail, the right to lose and to fail, could not fly on wings broken and frail.

Cause now I’m righteously angry, for once the master serves it dog, weak is not my name no more, no longer lost in fog.

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