Thread The World

[irish-fury]

Its been a long time....
perceived before defined knowledge forecasted audible for those that blind…I see the man in the mirror reflected a replica with out a conscious… I guess he’s not a sinner these thoughts our daunting…since the cradle I have been able to suppress the world around me nobody could hound me, god nobody ever found me…Rhetorical phrases split roads challenging paths like minotaur in mazes…Nubians(Newports) remnants drift around me inhaled and released to the be resurrected to the world…somehow I know its In my destiny to die be for a I’m full never reach to potent ional of being whole…then I ask myself what is it worth carried of alone in the hearse finally rid of this curse…it’s hard to be grateful when through my iris I see everything that is hateful no love or joy just cold shoulders that made me a soldier…it seems that everything around me is spoken in riddles I sit back and concentrate using logic to make it simple…I think back young smiling with dimples so innocent before I grew to a fire sparked by my adolescence kindle. Grown up know trying to thread the world though my thimble…