What do I stand for?
With words I speak,
I create simple harmonies and melodies,
I intertwine words to mold fabricated destinies.
It infiltrates the aura of the mind,
With words loud enough to hear,
But not clear enough to see,
Through ink that flows,
I undermine the normality,
To ignore the truth,
Of robotic mediocrity,
To destroy the substance of the mind,
Letters clothed in elegant,
Consume the lies told by men dressed in hypocrisy,
Wearing nothing but a dollar sign.
A web of my own disasters,
Language spun into novels,
Of creatures and monsters,
Hidden in the skin,
Of important Imposters.
I write for the weak,
For those captured by darkness,
Unable to speak.
To save the idealistic,
We are trapped in spirals of our own creation,
Left with nothing but words
And a villainous intention.