Under fuller claire de lunes
Aloof, the bard that bears the weight
Of lute, declares a bastard fruit 
A stone, and timely names it Timid /
Pendin on wether or not, this stone /
Deformed, remains as fruit, relies on truth /
That only it’s own seeds sees through the scrimmage, Check the image - 

To speculate, zoom it in to see the immaculate 
schematics I place into this ol microphone to inaugurate fair listeners to check - (come check it out) - without asking first what is it? Ask the rolling stone now, while u question, check the method / I’ve earned in my own tenure, this dichotomy - of sins that been committed, not omitted, along with the good I did -
U do it too? - Best to claim it as your own, living proof - for when they reminisce over you, what’s the truth-

They sing, thoughts -
They deem, worthy enough as a tangible tune
To be used to attune, what the absence could bring.
Caught, between -
Death and dreams. 
Intangible. The Vis a vis, abysmal depth that calls you fourth -
Unto, the stream -
Returns, then bleeds -
Deceit - The seeds -
let what was known n understood.
Go back ever changing, that impermanence did me good

I rock Sulfur, Salt, Mercury -
I tuck
I dug
I wash


 

Under fuller claire de lunes
Aloof, the bard that bears the weight
Of lutes, declares a bastard fruit 
A stone, and timely names it Timid /
Pendin on wether or not, this stone /
Deformed, remains as fruit, relies on truth /
That only it’s own seeds sees through the scrimmage, set the feeling - 

or mood - what is an MC known to do?
Discern, the turnabouts suspected - like murphy’s law suggested, loop the message -
Us sailors, must learn to overcome, timid sentiments began to form vivid testaments in crumbs -Is it yours? I called upon the storm then as a child still forming - ala David to Goliath, stone hurling, uncertain - yet ever becoming into like all the rest underneath the same weather, echo yelps / we anchor to the center, led by the - Flag of salabat, no country for old men, this goes beyond territorial maps / what it is, what it isnt - all to know or not what it’s like - living in the days, the future’s dead, all we have is one night -

(Dinner with Andre skit)

Wisdom Toof Prd. Lozano

Timid Golem