Aborted childhood
Warfare covered in a loose hood
I would 
I would rather die true
Than gather with your smart suits
Fuck you, i would never be you
You could never be me
Even in a billion 
Lifetimes, you tried, I laughed, you cried
As what you can’t afford’s
Not your fault, it’s the rhymes
What money can afford me 
Can’t stop the soulbleed 
As time is running
And I’m left to my memories

Fucking my head all around
As nothing matters
All is wrong
I paid my debts
I’m paying, I’ll pay
Till the fucking day
You’ll spit on my grave

Tell me what you got
What you need
What you dream about
What’s that scar 
what you fear
Why you’re running round

poetry to heal or die to (runnin round)

Prophet of lies