I think somewhere beneath existing

for existence I fallen short

of the artist I could once be

That, smooth talking non rapping

Sister that could bring

The crowd to their knees with

Just one free

style

Yes more than an artist

this is my life

style

a deeper part of me that transformed

in a verse

not lyrically gifted

it’s the lyrical gift that

gives me breath

and lets me breathe

the head escaped from death

Tossed into a dungeon

But escaped hells breath

And since this is my second life

I think the truth I must profess

Life more than a test

But a plan for eternal rest

and as I speak into the mic

Its my truth that I confess

I was lost without importance

Found myself caught

with no anointing

cant speak

I’m not appointed

Once was

But the talent wasn’t wanted

And now as I rack

My brain in pain

I see the stain from my pen

Gave up

My true companion

Lyrical verse my only friend

Not pure

U have been tainted

The art

Without its painting

And as I pray

For safe return

It is my heart that has been stolen

But the robber

Is not he

It was me that set u free

And without thee to give me life

To get back

This angel’s fallen