Doesn't mattered

  a sudden deep where light retreats, a quiet sleep descends upon the spared 
A thought expressed, that i have never seen
a fleeting snare of words ( the fuck is you) that shouldn't quite take hold, of the dreams 
a story whispered lies an, ages old of anger masked, or just never of all this then 

I pause, I look up to the no longer hear
These theories forever new, an will never know 
the reasons that we are here.
The higher power, the unseen hand,
Which is it
What purpose guides this shifting sand?
We watch the clouds begin to mass,
a strange reflection in the glass of what we build, and what we break, this grain of 
the paths we choose, the turns we take.

This strange compulsion to create,
A Mind  of strife  or for  meaning from this state,
to follow voices, near and far, are you all there to hear who That tells us who and what we are.
Voice the Opinions or a determined judgemental
Never there to know but always something  to say out of this rhythm moving through a narrative I didn't choose,
This is a path of the didn't s mean to pursue 

But still, the pen begins to glide, it is written 
the inner current  didn't cannot hide.
We talk of self, of all we lack, of one another
turning  The ones who claim to know the way,
and those who simply greet the day, blessed 
Now they stand apart, or so they claim not not 
The evilness  of a different fuel within the flame.

And I, who listen to this sound, of the watchers in the grain  less than certain, shifting ground of time
admit the pull, the need to strive 
to join the endless, noisy tribe. Sum Clan 
It feels like taking what is mine,never 
I could cause in within all this is not 
a selfish act, a bold design. Is and will always be 
the script is set above,
a predetermined shape of struggle, fate or simple chance,
we step into the destined by abidance 

We are not mirrors of the page,of the whispers that were bound upon a stage where every line is preordained, where freedom seems forever strained.
The breath we draw, the choice we make,
the silent promises we break,
these shape that molds  the withering beings
The darkness lifts, the  returns of comprehension 
the lesson that the spirit learns is in the soul suddenly theirs new movement possibly an idea of thy own, this life of 
Oh,mind never ever of the spontaneous observance of the earth
the places we refuse to go,
and those we have interest to venture and see 
we want so little, yet so much from this belief 
this bright spark, but will never be 
before we settle in the dark.
This act of writing, raw and real,
is how the hidden  words of you who of a being can be 
or simply surface, clear and plain,that's over came the flesh and soul
through sunshine or through falling rain.
Another beautifully day
This is the truth we strive to find,
beyond the noise within the mind.

rap, trap bassline  high hats 808 beats soul