Deep down into the mud I sink.
To a place of no return I go.
In the land of the floating I dont.
And even though alive, it was as of I am dead inside!
Sitting in the couch, with less more strength, less more smile and rocks in my heart. I can't help but ask:
which way now?
I had the best women life could offer. I rode the best cars you could think of, in my calls things were built, store houses torn down, yet am here today, still sitting in the couch, feeling a heavy truck running round my body, water drops within, yet I found none with exhalation. So I ask;
which way now?
I took my biddings to the skies,
I made the the sun smile when ever I came, and the moon could find its place never again in my presence.
I was the kings hand in affairs, I served Nations, yes even Nations could not contest in the arena of my diplomatic intellect.
They saw me from a pinhole, and I was pissed at them like shithole; why is this? Their sacred pin hole has been filled with guilt, depression and corruption. So they they look at me corruptably, slowingly chasing me into shit hole to give me a shot of dozens of shit, I was in a mess already.
A shot that will leave me alive but dead in spirit, which am not anew to.
A crazy man once told me
when they pissed at you, piss them off.
As I sat on this coach, I can't help but think, which way?
I have kept harms way from even the grasses, the sand and the bull, still they hold no key to find a path, A way, for they were no equal to the lions.
I have played uncountable joys and numerous cries in my head still my heart choose to cry.
I held still when I bled, yet the pains won't go away.
If I was half of lamentations, I would see me a dead soul, but as things fall Apart I am reminded that there are joys in sorrow, and sorrows admits joys especially when you hot a rock.
I do not tend to my wound but feed the sheep of others.
I slack in biddings, I am devasted by women of easy virtue, and in the whole provinces I now play a pauper of the fools.
I can't help the feelings, the falls and the denials or the good things of life once shared.
If I only I had my houses, my cars would be fewer, my women would be one woman, and the king i would serve deligently all my life.
As the falls scoffs on me, I pity not myself, I do look like a stray goat to the slaughter.
Seating on this coach of sadness has brought me more wisdom, that I discovered the way. Now I say to all who will listen;
This is the way!
