THE LIONS DEN

(HUNG LOW)

The  beat pounding at my temples, points of impact imminent,  I a walking talking representation of the most high, a relatively nice guy.
A one man army capable of toppling whole systems, this my soul the trigger,  go figure as Allah guide I.
This language I speak, sometimes  legalese, at other times these streets, systems would crumble to death at these feet.
I a madman on these black and white keys, a veritable symphony as I emphatically type psychopathically,  these tomes who I be as as I ascend gracefully,  winged angels soaring in mine skies.
Fear but an emotion to be trodden down, found these days on my battleground as I beat drop subsonically, my people once slaves freed, I son seed  would fill thy needs if only thy would heed.
Child born of the heart of a fallen star, carbon, water and who thou art, would that I could impart.
This the beat that fantastically forms the being me.

JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY