Dying in the Present

What was his heart thinking
when it fell for hers
2 kids from opposing area codes
Clearly it was never meant to last
And now that its over
All he can do is dream
Of a time long passed by
In a purple clouded time machine
Living in the past



It wasnt the waiting that irked him
More so the not knowing
Not knowing what fate the future held
For better or for worse?
It was as if
Some celestial was sitting on a cloud
Toying his destiny between uncaring fingers
In any case, the best strategy was to wait it out
Not that he had much of an alternative

Manfall to Monstar

A strange tale i’ll tell you, aye?
Happened to me other day
Was walkin dwn the road, (gravely one nearby the traks)
An approached an old man,
We was both not rly doin shit, so a story he spin me
About magik an daymons, dissectin em both
Lot a words he said to me, but heres wat i member mst

“vamps can drnk ur sol, feedin til nothin left
madmen can stitch n trim life at will, recreating u in their image
sirens lead the fool a shore, preying on greed
zombies have no brains, slave to any hand that feed em
witches cast spells, non-fiction only if u believe
thunder beings move at supersonic, agents of another sun
an yungman there are plenty others, so you best watch ur step”

Before the old man culd wave bye, i asked em
U knw all these monsters, these magiks as so, so
Wat kind of monster are u?
The old man winked an eye, and smirked
I am the griot, reborn again and again,
Only to rec, the fall of man, to monstar

The moon began to make its way, the oldman too shrtly after
i keep up on dwn the road, till i came to this place
Been here for some time since, at this table, waitin, tellin my tale to passerbys
We all have stories, all unique, cept one factor
The oldman with a smirk, who spun us a tale,
Leadin us to this hub of eternal waitin
Where time is not ours