- in the name of Allah -



Had some free time chillin at my bros house; the following was written:



What if I could make a necklace of words look like a necklace of pearls? Closing the eyes and opening the mind, thoughts trickle down and white light starts to divide. I chased the rainbow but some one already stole the pot of gold. So after this fruitless chase, was the vision a mirage or the scattered pieces of a broken vase? Antiques may have been antiquated, but can an idea fade so fast as if fate had never even made it? I dont believe the truth is a mist to be burned away by the sun but a sauna to try the soul against the very thing that can bring it undone. Though so long as theres air in my lungs and blood in my brain, Ill probably never stop writing for whats inside I cant contain in this life of mortal constraint


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