By Darrin Arbor-Bey
May 24, 2012
Sick of all the nonsense being portrayed
alive, full of inadequate natures,
Filled with promise, no one knows of,
Relieved of all sanity, ill and contrite
Loved by few, still new to what's true
look in my eyes, do you see the pain,
Feel the disbelief, of all that's been done, again,
Wonder feeds my soul and stingy heart
Revenge nourished my actions, still
"Fever" made my contemplation start.
Tired of all foolish-bred idle minds
I've earned my stripes in this war
Tamed the inner animal, wishing for freedom of some kind,
usually guessing, now it's known what's in store,
Clearly the attempt was the force,
that made this come true,
An understatement in thought of course,
"Fever" killed the virus of what's blue.
Forever wanting the treasures that dwell,
within spirituality, without doubt,
Stranded dreams understated smells,
of "Fever," my only way out
"Fever" is what it is though you may not know,
Never understanding its definition, thinking how is this "so,"
Sustained exasperation, belief in the Most High
the only thing, going blow for blow, is what's felt inside
"Fever" keeps me on "high", mostly with belief
of which way to go, my "Fever" is our only release
Beginning to finally understand this "light"
I wonder why it took so long
Situations keeps us blinded as a lost sight
The "Most High" is my "Fever" sickening to sin
but forever and feverishly strong.
