Pretense

Time to sleep and revere cause I know I am just tensed

3 months no words still I rhyme like I'm blessed

And wake up tomorrow with a nigh bit of sense

and stumbles strings together and just die in sync

If I had a million dollars or was down to ten cents

Till death do us part but I'll be back to confess

cause the crimes and chimes of hell are just meant

Instill fear but whatever, you were just heaven sent

And the days and nights are bleak in suspense

But the future is written, am I meant to just end?

Cause the pen in my hands bleeds like an incense

Curse me with hope that my mind is condensed

Or the fate is doomed or am I against

My soul in whose hands that made me commence

The hole in my chest is burning again

So I rest my case due to lack of pretense.

By: Arman Yusuf