Ciao.

[ABe©eDarian]

Instead of going naked,
more so make it if you fake?
Have and eat too is what they may want of cake.
A piece of what they break.
What about for the sake of my sake?
High stakes.
I can give and I can have but won’t gladly just take.
Gravity for the snake.
Depravity for what’s having me too awake.
Too aware with too much ache.
No one made me but what did I make?
Justice or just fooling around and being a flake.
What did you want to bake? See what’s great.
Got to create it straight.
Check on the checkers, no checkmate.
Whatever it weighs, I guess I’ll wait.
Too much deeper for the keepers of the gate.
I’ll call it all hate.
Killing me for a rate.
Then billing me for my trait of something on the plate.
So it all gets ate.
A cry for the spilling milk escape.
Sour to the next grape.
Prouder or louder sex with an ape?
Flowers Still In The Crate.
If I'm not to pay then why would I date?
Give a dog a bone or rape?
Mine or your slate.
Pure bait.
A cure for it's shape.

 

[ABe©eDarian]

It’s a waste to give them a taste.
It’s a waste to give them my face.
It’s a waste to go at their pace
in a race.
Too much grace to give to too much haste.
I didn’t come from having something to chase.
I come from a better place
with more than this limited amount of space
excepting payment for a trace.
Too important to open up to being erased.
Closing the case.
The friendly ghost will be hosting the rest of the 8’s
no longer a hostage to what takes.
Playing around with an ace is a disgrace.
Lividity from what lives with me
having all this creativity,
as this is what it makes,
having and eating cake.
Too real in the hands of fake.
Damned by who didn’t even bake.
I guess it isn’t for heaven’s sake,
it’s just a bloodletting.
Great.
Better fate will have to wait.
This won’t have the date,
but will give me half the hate.
And they just love it to look like my slate.
What’s on the plate?
It’s too late.
Check yourselves before you checkmate.
Was blessed in better shape,
then forever with the apes.
Be low hanging fruit and they get the low grapes.
You know it’s rape.
So there’s phone calls on tape.
Get your own, this only gets erased.
I only tried to come true, not plot escapes.
But I was already strong and true,
too long with who makes it break.
I guess that’s heartache.
Our Father who art in heaven,
stay there and there’ll be no more mistakes.
This is awake.
A system of wisdom would be more straight.
No jizzum at the gate,
with gatekeepers having their peepers on my rate.
They are not my trait.
Watch them gorge themselves like ticks and inflate.
Was that a win/win again
or was the narrative a traitor to the state
of my mind where it equates?
And that’s all Satan being a snake.
What has it ate?