I wake n rise for another planetary pirouette,
until the moon brings it’s big shade and lays us out to rest.
So I try to thrive through another day of life,
though sour souls aim to threaten my aura’s glow.
I WILL TAKE PRIDE IN MY EVERY STRIDE.
“If I die, my seed will be ill like me”
Slick oratory assassin, masked in jewels,
busting through life’s treacherous fallopian tubes.
Using a sword-like tongue to slice through the navel,
a caesarean fellow, flopping bodies with flows dense and fatal.
You picking up what i’m putting down?
Dissect the Dialect 