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DESPAIR (Arcane of fear)

Weighed by vengeful thoughts to enthrone a thousand consciences
I walked in streets of virginity, with stereos of hypocrisy pulling my pulse to strains of tense
If I listened to you, you'll only send me packing away with shame and a mark known
My blood is boiling to a brim of pleasure stewed to fill the marrow of my bone
I am lost no more Despair

Suddenly no contents introduced her veil which couldn't remain no more
Her heart has coverage of a life giving her into the world not pure
And then a suave passage to lotion it pleasure
Now elevated in thoughts not even tempting one can leisure
I am lost no more despair

Like a foal bursting out of its egg, like the first taste of an evening meal
No metaphor can be steeled to make u fit in the spinning wheel
Now I'm consummated producing guts of courage, tale and a story
Bearing this mark, I stabbed through adolescence poetry
I am lost, lost in Despair of an adult

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