Nothing that you can do,
About a Beast who hands you,
No other choice but to hand Him bad news!
A line of smoke He couldn’t handle,
Instead of a sig not important to a man who’s,
Doing everything he can surviving each shot he took reaching for a Mantle,
I’m dreaming of often…
Good thing I’ve seen what he’s offered,
Rather bleed in a coffin,
Let God seize what he allows me to gloss in!
Every Tree and the drinks that the Beast flosses?
Pulling my teeth by pulling my strings will not be a feat to process.
A foot in His mouth for all the lies that rot in,
Fresh wounds they’ve slit open!
As I get through this sick moment,
Writing down a bar full of fire from a mind that’ll singe opponents,
Aiming from the side of my fence in a War the Beast has flowed in,
From the darkest corners in my head while I lock and load these clips I’ve chosen,
Joyous memories of I when sober?
No longer is there anything coercing me to grab a beer anytime I’m soaked in,
My own tears…