Time (Recurring) ***Prelude*** Started with the pen, then begins to transcend deep within these words are worlds though it might end. My friend, the path to enlighten everyday I struggle with world I keep fighting. I'm an enemy a slave to the memory locked in the spaceship escape from the penury I grab my notebook to release the tension, scribble down a notion before the apprehension. Riddled with the demons that are locked in my conscience, holding to a rope no hope in my decensions. Did I mention as I travel deeper I hear the sounds emanating out from the speakers. The words float off the page I don't care my thoughts begin to bend like my lens concave lost in a dream with the paths that I should've paved should I go? should I wait ? floating on the tidal wave. I'm on the move I never ever hesitate, I'm staring at the moon as my eyes begin to dilate, is it the image of man in the lake? I meditate to penetrate deep within the mental state. I'm at the light post staring at the Van Goh through the window light coming from an angle I'm on the scene with my sneaks and my 'kangol' cause I heard life is just candle ***Interlude*** Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and is heard no more" Macbeth: Act 5, scenes 1-11 Cause I heard life is just candle light flickering wax on the mantle I slow my roll but my pace is still amble if time is a game then I'm ready to gamble ***Interlude*** Did you hear my word play superbly kind of like the sun ray rising on a new day now I'm hi-def- chilling on the flight deck spinning like a blue ray with lines like Lupe (tick tock) I'll blow any second time is your best friend time is the weapon time is the money money is a lepton time is irrelevant time is discrepant I hear the gloc click I hear the clock tick 10 more seconds till the smoke fills my optic I'm on a bench with my hands in my pockets looking at the clouds even though I can't stop it Time! Time is divine aligns with the soul disconnects from the mind Time the ebbing of the ocean the webwork of lives travelling like the photons Riddle riddle the bow or the fiddle? the mind or the soul which one is more brittle? Used to trust my heart back in school I was little mind on the grind with the pen as I piddle when I (Caribbean idiom/English Elucidation) wake up in the morning my mother work late so I'm at my school yawning Most men are moving bricks just to be cool kid meanwhile with my nap sack mind like a rubric mama told me not to follow them those boys are foolish stick to your note books not on the tool kit But mama I know I act a fool I know I come home late in the afternoon I want the life and the whip with the bumping tunes I want to get high so high I reach the moon (mmm) now I'm thinking back to the time I wasted could have been a man but I'm locked in a spaceship Time!