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letra de the dead of night - 137 (us)

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i’m content, not complacent
forgiving, not indulgent
tryna craft my verses so they’re cogent
thin lines between the aforementioned pairs;
i’ve seen how tension wears
fields free from tares are my greatest cares

i’ve seen some better days
and i’ve known some better nights
nonetheless, my ardor stays
cedar to termites

i never really realized
i wasn’t truly baptized
till i was able to put my life upon a table
and watch the feeble cable upon which it all relies
and take my taste of vale’s lies

i’ve sown some mighty seeds
and have flown amongst the crows;
i have seen how pencil bleeds
o’er styx my pen rows

i
have seen the reaper
in
the eyes of man
cold
are jeers of critics;
bold
i must stand

it feels off to take a girl out on my mother’s money
so i do seek secure the bag
i’m not frontin’ for honey

but i don’t need dough for some idle beauty
pen’s all i need for my kind of duty
scratch of the paper’ll do it for me
if i bleed for the craft i can write a story

i don’t want to spend my life beholden to the b-n-l;
if you know me you know i see writing on the panel

chosen
easy to forget when you’re surrounded;
blinded
by the sickly seeds which orchard’s founded on;
i’m not a p-wn
i am the board upon which the game is played upon

fall to my knees;
i will sail how i know;
i hear call of the seas
mast and canvas are my flow
feeling like writing a villanelle and some quatrains;
feeling sweetness like vanilla coursing through my veins;
familiar sensation of the craft taking soul’s reins;
recognizing pitter-patter of creativity’s rains

chasing
not for the cup of the liquor
but for my vocation;
pacing
not for the sake to be sicker
but for the pure reason of patience

long into the night i work upon my craft;
i’ve been swimming in the sea
without even inflated raft;
all that’s certain in this life is uncertainty
while you’re searching for surety
i’m in love with insanity

if you cry ma
it won’t buy time;
i’ve been walking in the tundra
in dead of night;
and i sing my songs
so i don’t lose sight;
i know all the creatures
are drawn to the light
haven’t found a lover on my lonely trail
’cause my uncle always taught me chase more than tail;
i’m the kind of brother that’ll seek life’s wrath
for sake of blood to write a tale

closing my eyelids i see my moira, yeah, see i my fate
which is another reason nothing on this earth can hope me sate

sweet
i look like cinnamon;
sour
tasting from my lemon pen;
wheat
i separate it from the chaff;
power as i use my staff

swinging like a tarzan
through the jungle—wisdom;
spray can—i am—
making art on the walls of the mausoleums
‘spite the spectators of the coliseums;
i know it appalls but i draw on the palls;
and i speed it up
and i do not pause;
i’m a shepherd to the flock and i see the paws
of the wolf in the midst of the sheep—
big jaws

if you cry ma
it won’t buy time;
i’ve been walking in the tundra
in dead of night;
and i sing my songs
so i don’t lose sight;
i know all the creatures
are drawn to the light

- 137 us

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