Sam my Poet

Man made, mistake intent from content of a lost poet, the blind prophet, metaphors recited to incite through puns unguided, contexts from prospects of ancient texts, truth noted, i rhyme often as i write dense content. Ignite grey matters with lines from stone tablets, forgotten writings newly quoted, heads node as jaws lay open, coming to pass prospects like the few chosen. I battle webster with oxfords lessons, remain being like breath filled persons, broke... Maybe but i pay attention, release tension like massage moments, feels good dont it? Melodies unrestrained, maintained through time, i proclaim, insane like sanities gains, close your eyes and let Ur brains learn. I write to challenge absoluteness, rhyme to meditate at mediums where truths is, prudence, like floating microphones i fictionalize these, marry my imagination and find happiness, in true sense some poets hurt my feelings with their rubbish, i believe its rudeness... My queens essence keeps me smiling now thats trueness, love this:-) unrestrained tacticks, this is my tract of black magic, lyrical wordsmith, real fresh like the prince but am no black smith lol... 

 By Sam Moyo