When time comes to pass
and the future still reminds you of the past,
stick to the script or
redirect the path;
detours while on tour,
rocking shows getting love
from the front rows;
remaining the same
even-though many old ways have changed,
grown in stature young by nature
and strong in spirit;
fighting the feeling to wild out
and start killing,
keeping the gun down,
but at the same time still walking
with my nose to the ground;
aware of the undeclared...
God grant me the serenity to stay prepared,
dwelling in dungeons with dragons
blazing fire from the bowels of despair;
alone in my zone
and few seem to actually care,
however my focus is without blemish or glare
as I stare in the rear-view
my spirit sees straight through you;
is it karma or
is it just all part of baby-momma drama?
living daily fighting for my babies
screaming LORD save them
from the perils of sin
teach them from my mistakes,
no more abusing the pen;
Scribe everyday to document
the true path which to take(venture)
leading the way so others will know
which pasture to partake
therefore their souls will not be forsake;
When time comes to pass
and the future is hear at last
may my spirit forever last
as my seeds continue to scribe
from where my pen last
left the pad...