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Twist and Turn

produced by YaC. 

Your absence is felt. Your voice is needed. Wield it with care.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w-IyamaAbxM

Lyrics:
Solemn before the storm 
The first strike of thunder’s hollow boom with the knock of a gavel 
As the battle was born 
Write into a life sentence
The alarm for war
Heard in the distance like fog horn
That heat of gunfire won’t keep you warm

You were warned
And were told you better believe it
Lost legions 
Fallin victim to false leaders 
And false preachers, praying hard 
to God’s demons
Mocked heathens
In providence 
Of stocked reason 

And I wonder if poetry was ceasing, before the bombs dropped in the middle east?
James Baldwin’s diagnoses 
of societies sick, with the cost of missing similes

The light of the artist, the mark of the beast, and the, struggle, for his integrity 
Walkin them roads in a province, where there aint, nuthin, but rubble underneath
Of the feet 

And he said it sounds mystical in times like these
Just like them biblically tossed prophecies
Getting invoked from provoked oligarchies 
And the spirit can’t breath when the key is locked away in cobblestone and ceremonies 
Life plants it’s seed and grows, 
Like the colour green, la vida 
We’re livin in, times that are loca 

D-day done washed up on the beach
Shadowboxin aesop’s zombies in alleyways
Somethin pops up thru the rocks, all of the gravel gets tossed in the air 
as the atoms spray, and casually
down goes another casualty 
While dem bosses - with all of they false prophets are off 
miles away - Feet up in they offices  capable of stopping
These chess games played with the pawns as their prey

An example of Madvillian’s and their strangest of ways 
Bringin up DOOM as the argument made in this essay 
And the best way, not to succumb to that fate
May be if all walking in slumber, heard the alarm and awaked
To the impending sound of the thunder, and of it's nature of primal retrograde

The solemn before the storm 
The first strike of thunder’s hollow boom with the knock of a gavel 
As the battle was born 
Write into life sentences 
The alarm for war
Heard in the distance like fog horns
That heat of gunfire ain’t gon’ keep you warm


Tell me was it really a loss, if it was never really truly even fuckin yours?
Dichotomy up with the wins cuts deep like a motherfuckin double edged sword
Musashi yo it’s Miyamoto, out of the dojo
Stayin down low to the floor 
Grounded I roll like komodos
Reading your mind like a kobo
Ready for war 
fall like it’s Constantinople 
Write my Dokkodo
They told me you’ll find what you need
Look for a man in a yellow kimono
All on my quest to be free
yo and I’m feeling like Frodo
Baggin’s under my eyes
dragon when I’m spitting these rhymes 
Tracking down false philosophies and prophecies 
get sliced by the blade with the sword of a samurai

Aint no stoppin these velocities
But you can stop the atrocities

foghorn

brewed by the instruments my sweatshirt be earl grey,
fog ensues I decay I fell in love with foreplay.
grief and disillusionment got me mixed 
in schemes of cynicism, 
cos its the English way to fix upper lip stiffened, like.
I'm lost in the mist still,
maybe I never left, 
diffused with the air in my chest,
cathedral bell chimes fog filling up I barely see the spire,
so retired and tired, mired and bored
my half hearted efforts to find the edge of the mist,
groundhog day I wake and I skip, 
ghost walking I'm asleep.
might as well be a sheep herd
I'm lost in the mist.

lost in the mist

SPOTIFY

still blue

the ocean stared back at me and told me how to feel.

post-raphaelite brotherhood. 🍂

lost in the mist

Sir Rayne

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