Stretching my soul like butter
spread over too much bread-In the process of going the distance,
Slowly striding
while the demon's haters constantly doing what they do best,
(hate);
Peeping plans poorly prepared to assassinate a bonafide character;
I guess they don't know I'm my story's protagonist,
Please don't get this star pissed
because you might blink and miss God's glorious gift;
Stretching my spirit cuz
so many wicked hearted fear it any time they come near it;
They can't fathom that a vessel of my stature could harness a essence
so righteous that slave owners even knew he was priceless,
But even though heathens know they can't consummate my eternal breathing
They continue the pursuit to infiltrate
the vision of my prism attempting to stop my heavenly missions…
Stretching my light
until everyone I touch knows the most high is the truth…
That when you deal with the soul there is no color,
The world is our country,
And our religion is to be spiritual,
And through that
things will begin to change…