Didntnome2

The loyalty remains, yes, or ,is it in question
Or else ,not to learn,or to murder for your being
It's not to kill the family cause world wide in all matter, kill yourself,
It's  a strange, stubborn anchor in the storm,
holding firm against a tide
I can no longer name. Those of any would have to voice an opinion of another,these that you move with ,abused by laws 

( what are you doing, Where's the paper work,and I'm a citizen)
But what does it hold fast, solidarity, these names it be called.known differences bust or in its peace
So both to know the difference,again,  know wing
This is ,MY OPINION OF MY ABIDENCE OF THY OWN BELIEFS And respectably opinionated for your comprehension of my perceptions
For this individual  of 
Is this tether to a past that claws?
I do not want this becoming the norm,any longer
this endless tension in the misconception of what factions or splinters from cause of 
this constant bracing for impact.i do not impose for life is hue of any,
This living sculpted  of what might break next,
the floorboards groaning under weight.
This feeling, this raw, exposed nerve,
it is not a passing chill,
It is the climate now. Environment that's not just
As  it once is now was

This is the true burden,
heavier than any imagined guilt,
a weight unearned, unchosen.
I was in refusal, you see,
a quiet turning away from the cliff edge
but the wind kept pushing.
Awareness of now,
a spotlight blinding in the dark,
is the heaviest burden of all.
It illuminates the structure,
the faulty beam
My notification to silence,
a voluntary deafness I once practiced,
now feels like complicity's echo.
At that time statistics show,
ninety thousand lives shifted like sand in an hourglass,
unseen in the grand ledger.
For yalls pocket, positioned Ns,
numbers neatly stacked and filed away,
no longer for you that collected the human cost, the scattered dust.
Recognizing and knowing what is wrong,
the slow seep of poison into the well,
and watching it be called safe,
sanctioned, even praised for its efficiency.
The loyalty, that stubborn knot,
it still binds me to the wreckage,
a limb aching for a ship that sailed long ago,
leaving only the constant, choppy sea.
Only to disciplinary action towards an individual Recognizing our own of alliance or faction of to mark us in our own doing
And the anchor holds, 
Hear me now 
 not what shore, I cannot tell,
only that the storm still rages,
and this  has become the very shape of breath.
This is the new geography of the soul.


That you will not save

 homies 

Givzah 

Outtatune the riddler

rap, trap bassline  high hats soul 808