And I ain’t done yet
All of my discretions bring me no revelation
I swear if I were him, Hell I’d have made a nation
Needing no recommendation from others
But then I’ve got the keys and no gate
Keys to Hell or keys to fate
No alives in my head that I can relate
What if the loony was right by what he said?
That he repeats the speech from a bucket head;
I think we two have a connection comrade
But I feel it
The cold emptiness and I need to feel it
I asked advice but She told me to beat it
This is my will so I hope that She reads it
And if She finds me dead hanging from a ceiling fan
I wonder if She would have said it went to plan
“His years of playing all blew him dead away”
So all this time that nigga was just insane
So will my fate now be a phantom
Undecided, or is it random?
Is Heaven so pre-occupied with it’s matters
And hell closed for the coming winter?
Published by Teni Akeju