Stranger within me.

After the long introduction in my previous piece to my first love the union that can't be broken, i thought i would jump ahead and put down this piece, i basically hate routine so I'm not going to give a footage bit by bit in a sequence like a boring soap opera...rather thought to skip as my brain commands as this is not my life story but the actions inflicted by my brain mentality so yeah...now you understand, biographies should be dedicated to our brains...like we should actually give our brains names. half of the people i know have named very weird parts of their bodies that I'm not at discretion to mention due to reasons better known by Microsoft.

This piece was one of those random moments a friend gave me a dare to describe or bring to the surface, or better yet explain to explain who lost sun is!! this got me by surprise cause honestly i don't even know, like i never knew or thought about it...so the time frame was very short , actually non at all, she went like picture your self spitting a free style, now just use the pen as your metal tool, the mic...the lost sun came up with this in a nut shell.

stranger within me.
A billion years back since the blast, lights flashing at night to haunt me, haunt my dark past, still lives within me.

Since creation, we was all made, since declaration i was great, thoughts that creep on my conscious, the real me, i wish to see, i want to see
can't explain why i was born a boy not a girl, was it my destiny or just a scientific happening?

These strange things, metaphors that be stuck on my lips, strange beings that walk up to me, that surround me, seeds we plant in gravel paths, only to wish for a better out come, the screams, we so often hear, cry of joy maybe, or tears of sadness, whenever one dies , another soul is born, in split seconds the sick cycle, the fateful trend continues.

In a mixed personality i exist, in an own self created universe, stand in front of a mirror, my reflection binds me to a skeleton that has a mind of it's own, words i speak only make sense to those who digg deep, you need to look behind the curtain to understand why it was torn when Jesus wept...for every piece has a reason, so i fight to finish the puzzle of life before life it self consumes me. never to realize if it's wrong or right, so i ask should i hold back my thoughts or prophesies, these writings that fill my cubicle walls, my own future in a master piece picture, sold it for a dollar to an artistic artifact creature who posted it next to a mona Lisa,

As i was told I'm the writer of my own destiny, i believe the king of my own world, a blessing to those ears that hear and off cause adhere, manner to those i break bread with and finally a god..for my father is definitely one.

Peace.