Knowledge of Self

Evident how inhaling deep drags from rolled zig-zags, helps my mind escape the gulag. Unwinding the tight mental durag, finally this stag gets his chance to nag. Connivingly silent and laying like a laymen, this gentleman gentile lifts the ambiance with a smile. Puffing more magic than the Dragon himself. Peep the jargon, as my words strike and pierce the heart. None capable of matching my arts. Without a struggle this muggle is able vent and let his words wreck. Inspect and dissect the dialect of this bi-racially mixed gent. Infused with the burning herbal, my verbal remains viscous, riddled with substance. It’s Vicious. Knowing the ledge I stand on, and bearing wisdom by the day. Understand that ancestors live in the words I have to say. Cultured by old earth’s love, refining the power given from above. Equally balanced and sensible, no mystery, this god is tangible. Dropping knowledge with 7 notes on the musical scale, helping to build the frail. Deploy and avoid those who plan to destroy. No superstition, i’m born again, in perfection. Reincarnated in a sedated state, i’m surgical to only mate with the original. There’s fate in this cipher’s innate ability to help you see clearly. A circle with no beginning or end. It just is. Peace.


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