PridelessIdiot

Intellect

Just do it, i see in the transparency of your eyes of cobalt steel

Just do it, i feel in the ghost of my weight sitting on me

Truth sits right on you, why not take the directive to follow in

To stand, write a simple rhyme and another superficial hymne

To walk, put your foot forward, but not before your brain

To talk, open your mouth, after your subconscious does

Sit in the mind, parallel the details, produce another slate of emptiness

Walk over the mind, scuff the feels, wash yourself with reality

Discard the mind, absorb your surroundings, implode upon contact

Punch a bag, force is released from you, energy also being created inside you

Play a game, lose your conscience in the process, no skill to develop

Write a poem, regain a balance of life, everything gets restored

Higher higher art keys pull down their own personas

Smaller living sizes take shape and reform space

Mediums all the same for us to experience similarly unique

Sensation loses its purpose when stripped down to its core

Build nothing around it to sustain its longevity

Process undo the layers of material in item

Rewind to restore all the updates of life

Sign a peace treaty with my grave

Write a will for my soul

Cut myself open and consume my blood

Sponge in all my surroundings

Kill half of my genius

Live a happier life