Bleeding fingers form patterns.

The lost sun, I have been to the ninth planet with no flying objects…My bleeding fingers still form patterns.

So dig this.

I break my dark thoughts decisively, to speak in a form thats understood by the rest of you..definition of skills, Stephen king flic in an instance, words now come last, picture perfect..I tore of a page of Da Vinci’s last supper master piece..mastering Harry Houdini’s…. one bullet theory, no more basic phrase sentences, move back signs, like beware ‘’ sick mind at work’’. i be the kind relocating thoughts, your psychiatrist phrased in a common beat session, the sneer kills my time period, when your money is up. Leave you believing that you’ll be safer if you top up.. I simply formulate like meth heads in a lab scribbling chalk boards on how to penetrate the core of your vortex..inner most mind, pick through brain sections, Hannibal Lecter style.

From the birth of the universe, my Father the creator..gave me passes through levels in time, forged my thoughts through dimensions with signs, Exosphere, Thermosphere, Mesosphere, Stratosphere, my grade now rests on the Troposphere , a recreation of beings that’s now here, knowledge is clear, Hiphop is the word we speak and now they all must hear, no longer rhyme and reason .. it’s pure…basic thoughts and reason, I don’t rhyme to fit in, my bloody finger ink lines...are just deep..metaphors control my train of thought…thats just it…words align on paper the matrix..as i write, fit in perfect.. a Shaolin monk with samurai skills..always a step ahead in life like on the chess boards…that Kenyan cat..air skating like the silver surfer..leaving my prints in every hood I bless with the arc angles touch..check my bloody fingers..I leave patterns.