False.

The vast amounts of pretension without intention due to frigid isolation, elation introduced to a pedigree, various degree intermingled with a remedy thats supposed to alleviate anxiety, worry free, bottled and handed so freely.

Its entrapment followed by soulful indictment, the true detriment of time fully spent on the vehement and the singular contentment, where all was meant to be delivered in perfection, but all the loose ends had been bent into a hollow sound producing screaming judgment, like you weren't allowed to vent, childish connotations met without relent. Keep it all inside, thoughts in my mind not paying rent, leaving the largest mental indent, evil intent no precedent.

You call it beautiful, being all quiet and recluse, rather obtuse when your whole life hangs in a noose thats just a little too loose.

Bringing a tragedy shooting down like some kind of tyranny only without a king and without a visual sting, makes the most wildest things sing.

Vain resolves to solve a series of empty trauma met with a little too much drama, an emotional opera, losing its sense of value and virtuous meaning like a paper bag made by Prada.

We all have that expression that cracks with tension, as if a degree of certain emotions equates to moderate position of Here I Am...

That's when it all comes together in some crazy mosaic of Freaks Like ourselves tithing to the wind and singing into fire,

  You see its a simple stress test of validity, man's heart beating rythmically, professing tranquility. What is? Humility.

An edge, a violent verge, hands cracking from holding onto a ledge while protecting their true selves, concrete hedge. Making a solemn statement that minutes are holy and brief seconds are made worthy, in an attempt to exclaim a real pledge.

Dedicated mindsets, fractal energy bouncing softly, towards a normally animated fantasy, you see, where a hard hand strikes a dark day, makes it spring and bounce, forgetting about a shattered ounce, instead waiting for lion to pounce, invigorated with light to renounce the many counts, held against us like some broken heart made to bleed all of a sudden,

Its times decreed of moderate greed, as none yet hold the strength to individually heed the construct of being in need beyond being freed, emotionally, its a certain provisional lead to the exact form of deed that made us all guaranteed, an absolute display to supersede all those who've forever disagreed, its a shame indeed.

Be prepared to say on that certain day, without relay, look with your eyes up all the way, this is no longer the time to write some intricate essay in some

Bougee cafe, but rather playing ballet with the decay thats led your life formidably astray. Being handed an empty bouquet as an attache to the dissaray as you disobey and look back underway to every action that did betray, a view so passe, does not even begin to convey that it was not okay to play that way.

What i mean to say is through all the misery, the corrupt clarity that enamored your entity to reach depravity masquerading as positivity, in light of all the enmity brought forth between your identity and what has become incrementally and environmentally, experimental, a gentle, accidental, provision of self judgement, like cement falling all over your brain in an attempt to circumvent the torment that lays present, a sort of discontent lament that makes your thoughts ferment into a delusional accent, trying to reinvent the time that you spent,

An indictment, certain consequent, direct involvement to wolves howling, enraged by the vigor found in indulging in darkness, left out there prowling.

You may have made it into congregation, developing your own rule and reign, yet what you procure in the end is desolation, a plain attempt to soothe the pain, comparable to Cain, youre not the brothers keeper.

You have only but yourself to gain, harvesting veins of just being vain.

You stand there anointed as Hell, but you stand there with nothing to quash the quell,rather than looking at the writing on the wall you continue to indulge with a great cabal, know them all, deemed power to fall, i aint playing hard ball, just in it for the long haul.

Lets all examine the air you blow -off to show, the lack of spirtual investment in stock, blowing air at the flock, treating His words like a board walk, cake walk whatever you want to call it but youve built yourself a cell block, built to survive the shell shock, cut the small talk, you face a building block,

A block that seems to make you stumble, mumble, grumble, putting your individual plans in a humble jumble.

How fortunate for one to date, amidst a display, a wonderful articulate array of words made to dissuade the fantasy but rather ornately engrave a certain nightmare, a tragedy, diluded, covered & veiled in a delusion,

Believing captives have an iron rod, led by an iron man who wears an iron crown