THICK SKIN
I've become a cage of my own memories
A painters' palette of colour's that Evokes a sudden image of philosophy.
With instincts as sharp as the edge of a knife i proceed to be an anomaly
Whilst investing a body of an impure flesh
To this course of personal virtue.
I find myself in a deserted territory of my own mental state
Where i am not tamed by temptation.
I've derived myself of my sins that have been projected onto my struggling spirit,
A hollow depiction of an unjust purity it has been poisoned with.
Weakened to death, I've friendlied the worst enemy of heaven
In between the two hands of God that advocate justice,
The nature of my truth in the testimony that weighs deeply in my heart becomes questioned.
I've conspired with intentions that can only be harnessed by the devil.
How strange, the motive behind those thoughts pays no homage to the fate of those who suffer from the consequences,
Therefore being put a position where my choice becomes power that changes the narrative
Was overly inevitable.
