El-Yoshuah Malakhi

A glare at a distance reflects a fragment of realities abundant in vivid visions of victory stares that translates life’s movie creating a lens projecting scripts The glory erupts passion picturing purpose of paint galleries and art exhibits Running races through thoughts Reminiscing patterned portraits The void cradles your wishes well It absorbs the orbs that floors your soul to wooden tiles with ears to hear With a door that never closes cracked open like grinded peppercor

My brother you are sacred The moment you doubted your power Your worth became forsaken Lost in the trenches of your mind The pistol you carry is a disgrace To the energy you carry within I double dare you to body The pain that kept you suffering It is an invitation to rewind And remind yourself that your worthy To feel and be loved by The feminine essence that dwells Within the well of your vessel Your heart breaks like a pretzel But your love is deeper Then the barrel of

There is a force that rest dormant it informs you of regressions resting deep in an abyss it boils and grows like a cyst when it burst your truest essence exist The amount of bliss blistering blazes of boundless boundaries with layers of salad and salaries paying you attention to mention the dimensions fruitful enough to lead you into a world vegetated with abundance it runneth over with substance It bleeds and screams excellence the scars and wounds blistering through the