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I speak in the tongue ov the ancient ones
Exhale from lungs blackened suns
Whenever I walk I forget how to run
So I devour the hours before they come undone.
The world is a stage n’ I am in a venomous rage
A tiger out ov his cage can’t even step to my face-
It’ll dart away with its tail between its legs
As I scream a thousand verbs n’ turn the hellvens a crimson red.
I am the snake in Eden
I am a goddamn heathen
A lord of treason
A scribe without reason.
Poetry is dead
It was murdered by the ghetto beat
Thugs on the streets
Wearing their damn pants down to their feet.
I will win in a rap battle
Sin as my tail rattles
Kill a man before he tattles
Spill the sand before the ground shatters.
I am the beast ov the east
The pest ov the west
The horrifically unblessed
The sadistic n’ psychotic mess.
I must digress!
Must confess!
Speak about the weak
That can’t reap what he sets-
Upon notebook paper
Between the lines
My words are obscure
My rhythm,
Perfectly timed.
K'rimsin Krowley scream
- by Aleister Cowlee |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 07/27/2009 |
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- Title: The (R)oot
- Artist: Aleister Cowlee
- Description: Dark Poetry
- Date: 07/27/2009
- Tags: root
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Comments (2 Comments)
- Brooklay - 12/26/2009
- Loved it. Really really good poem.
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- Kya Akai Kitsune - 07/30/2009
- hmm i really like it not normally my style of music or poetry but it was good
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