The absolute design that defines me,
and yet in the mist of the night no one hears my screams.
Yet the dark tone skin could never find me,
but yet my yelps of breathe could never shape me.
See I feared those scars on my inter lower back,
that crippled curved spine wrapped in flesh that holds me.
Those tall men could never understand me,
yet the shines of the lights cracking through
the darkness could stretch further than any man could ever grow.
I fear the shadows because there's no truth,
yet my flames were just too weak to understand the shame of my kin.
The torture that lies within,
as I choke on my sins,
those deadly evil things.
A creature let lose on flames,
the wild instincts consume from within,
but fear not because I am pure light and it doesn't burn me.
The inter dialectic theory that shakes my bones, it kinda excites me.
I'm often awake to life's miscible things.
A black child with deep wounds, stripped of his entire innocent's
and yet he wasn't giving a name from the beginning.
So he was name shameless, something unloved by creation.
Yet I whispered to myself, am I so bad that I can't even be loved?
I'm a creature of habit; I desire the most of things;
yet I just wonder why things don't notice me?
Blacker than the most blackouts or
darken corners with no smiles or whiten teeth shown.
I was the phases of all misplaced things,
a scary dream they use to call me.
Yet my purpose was mostly held on lightning the sky,
stars brighter than hollow shaped moons or
the glares of blinding light shooting from snowy avalanches.
Darker than most men's shadows,
but I was more beautiful than any white rose petals.