Beautiful

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  • Passion

    Beautiful



    As I diversify, what lies beneath these lines
    These rhymes will begin to define what I imply as my vocals fly
    Towards the sky, this then denies the replies of thoughtless little sighs, and fake little cries, Don’t defy, just try and go by with lines, as it combines and suddenly defines, the divine decline of our designs, and then aligns itself next to a metaphoric resign…
    Though it finds its way back up to a metaphoric rise, bringing back a prime time rhyme, but will end up back to a thoughtless little sigh, but when this sigh dies, what is left to be recognized…So I advise and apprise to devise a sort of plan, or revise the type of plan of looking at the world as its going through its demise. The life should be cherished not perished into a disguise, stop the lies, and those stupid tries to get to the “prize”, look beyond of what is in doubt, beyond the word “wise”, through the cries of a dying person to the laughter and warmth of a sunrise. Define “why”; define “beautiful”, because everything in this world should not be despised. Through these eyes, you will eventually see what there is to deny, Supply yourself with wisdom, and reply negatively to the wrong doing, getting high with drugs, should be overdone by getting high with faith, because faith replies highly over the wrong, and the wrong certainly is avoided by those who are strong, who will know exactly what is right and will understand what I imply, and so when I’m exhausted I don’t rely on drugs. No, Instead I rely on faith, I look up towards the sky, no drugs in mind, and there’s nothing going through my thoughts. My thoughts are dealing with God, relaxed, and so the lyrics become elusive. And so I stay fly with what I write and how I live my life, and my life is fine as I live through these rhymes. Remember I’m not denying some other type of way, I’m saying how I’m relying and complying with the undying feeling that’s supplying my satisfaction of relaxation everyday. Beauty is in the art of the rhymes and some say Hip Hop is dead, but the beauty obviously has not died. And my view on “Beauty” is determining the truth behind what excites the senses in a physical and mental type of pride. Don’t defy, as I implied, just go along with these rhymes. Because time isn’t anything, life isn’t anything; the world isn’t anything without something beautiful. And the world is truly beautiful along with everything in it. Beautiful life, the beautiful strife, the beautiful question of “why” to blind oneself from the heaven in the sky, questions is beautiful because they suppress the knowing, but faith is all about knowing something to be true when you can’t see nothing. But I still feel the precaution of my exhaustion, as I get tossed in the crazy theories I get lost in, and as I start to begin, I sweat as fast as a prostitute can sin, and as I keep rhyming I really feel the angel within, but when I stop, the feeling just goes dim, and life goes black, back to how its been. Though sin is just the answer of solving problems with God by understanding the sins that are committed. These rhyme skills, kill that addicted feeling of overdosing on pills, and certainly fills the heart with something more to feel. Nothing else can feel more real. Nothing else can seal, or kill the beauty. When sad, hurt, or depressed, it breaks the stress, and this appeal then magically heals, then reveals that the rhymes are surely a serious ideal. It isn’t a vain appeal, its perfectly sane. The electric signals are essential to the brain, and maintain the many messages and feelings the person starts to feel, this chain of feelings drains the pain, forget the blood stains on the dollar that remains, or the fake money makers that forsake and break the name of the game, the same who are blamed for the unfortunate account of death on Hip Hop, who take and make these so called “lyrics” straight down the drain, it’s a great shame, no money no fame, no honeys no game, it’s a screwed up mentality stuck nowadays in the game. There are then frames, and beefs to claim some names are the blame for the catastrophe, there’s still no valid evidence of what there trying to make it out to be. The pain still lingers in the name of the game, and the game still lingers in shame, fame brought up by power, and that hour was wrong when it came, because the fame became something not even good enough to proclaim, but the real Hip Hop is great to the soul in its own name, the flame is still untamed, and still exists to this very day, and my head still bops to its name in no shame. Therefore I acclaim that Hip Hop can be much more addicting than cocaine, No other such thing can break that beautiful bond, and the intense vision of poetry. And so God’s creation and our great nation still always amaze me. And through every little design, there’s always a decline, but not for the rhymes because the sky then intertwines, and everybody knows the sky doesn’t die, it just lies there until the end of time. And so these rhymes I posses are manifested through time in the climb for that special prime time rhyme, and the rhyme that metaphorically defines something beyond a meaning, is definitely without any sort of doubt
    Something inevitably beautiful.

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    DeepEclipse commented on Beautiful

    05-14-2009

    Damn this reminds me of Black Ice. Smooth poem. Not just the wordplay, but the fact that you flowed the wordplay for so LONG!!!

    MizBlaze commented on Beautiful

    05-14-2009

    This poem's title is perfectly fitting....Glad to see the glass half full....

    kitap2006 commented on Beautiful

    05-13-2009

    That poem made me truly understand why i write beautiful!!

    Poetry is what gets lost in translation.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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