The art, the words, Katana sword.
The mind, the power, manifestation wand.
The melanin, the melancholy, the scars, races identity,
The figures of speech, expressionism, identity of the art.
Your mind, your chains, new age slavery.
Your hate, your love, no disparity.
Young you, old you, separation, illusion.
This school, that jail, same institution.
This pain, that pain, stem from one well.
The well that never runs dry, the art.
My hand, my heart, deep solace.
My silence, my intricacy, still waters run deep.
These words, death bed, no separation.
These words, encrypted knowledge, slave awakening.