The Heir of No Relation
A
woman I may not be but through creative oration, aureate bundles of joy I give
birth
My
voice tearing the silence, audio violence, destroying all that is dull and not
born of abstract thinking
On
my quest to find diamonds in the rough, buried deep, prized ideas I unearth
Parting
the land, the feet of Mother Nature in hand, separating all creative jargon
from ordinary talking
Become
the Maggi, body, mind and souls become three wise men to which my epiphany is
bestowed
Behold
my speech, refined gold, born in hell forged in suffering, hardened by pain of
love always missing
With
intellect my words are draped, wrapped in wisdom and with your love may they be
adorned
Words
dramatic, your body they pay no mind, but spirit they will break, so take heed
when listening
From
the shadows my lines may come, but to the stars they shall soar, like a bat, a
dark knight rising
As
my rhymes escape, they leap to freedom, not by strength, it is their spirit
that is light all weight of previous fears removed
I
love their sound, unbound, mathematically rhythmic, young, wild and free
But
I pay my respects to the pause, to be honest to the silence, to the dead we
only owe the truth
For
Go is nothing without Stop, no king no throne, no dog no bone, it is the
contrast of the two that I condone
For
the finest blades are those forged of ice and fire, May I forever yield my
sword, letting my pen bleed and never retire
May
my words carve my path in stone, chiselling off misfortune that may draw me
from my destiny?
Slowly
rising, jealously enticing, submit to my verbal dominion, come forth for your
baptising
Kneel
to the king, this is different from your knighting, I am the heir of no
relation, and this is my coronation.
© ♔ ♕☆The Labrys♚♛✮ @tapiwaDEMO
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