Private Eye

no coffee or tea this morning…
already got a cup of many thoughts
to keep me up. i'll never drop
there's no need to be feeling dormant
i am not just speaking for me these are warnings
for anyone who is in pieces with no peace inside
look…
heed the moral of the hero's story
a warrior's not born one
there's the importance of being naïve and ornery
in a land that's bleak and stormy
on the path to XP awarded
before we achieve our glory
and proceed to defeat the beasts before us
gotta meet the coordinates
always beginning at ground zero
before reaching that peak performance
enduring tests of strength as i greet these heated mornings
i'm low key… but still manage to reach enormous heights
with only my wits to be the sort of knight
to wield mijolnir's might then seal the portal tight
the leader of the cliff will greet you in the winter nights
and teach you it's a myth these sheeple have to win the fight
by leaving you my gift; you'll feel it in the mist of light
before the reaper and his kiss grips my last inch of life
independent in the trenches with my penmanship
my weapon til the end, i can't depend on any medics
my head restless and endlessly on a quest for wisdom, truth
and mastering my lessons; happiness, in essence
but if wisdom's just awareness that we're really unaware of
everything we thought we knew
then i've deduced that it's foolish
to live with arrogance. i know…
it's scary to accept that you're lost
you want a semblance of control or something resembling it
except i've accepted it's up to ourselves to get a grip
all the potential for contentment rests in our heads
so let us sit, for a minute and just mellow instead
and finally settle in
every fragment unlocked from my past taught me the path
walking to a frosted land across the map
sights on the precipice

my private eye is looking out for me…
and my private eye, sees more than you’d believe…

mister class clown, never was one to back down
from a joke request but ask now
and get the killing joke instead of a laugh now
you'll pass out and wake up on a carnival ride
in the part of my mind that resides
in the background by the asylum
many farces of mine were just disguises
so pardon if i'm not so ardent to be part of the tribe that
gets alarmed by the quiet and finds it hard to survive
without a brash sound or remark, i've already tried
my tolerance for small talk is all gone
i'll walk off to the side and just
fall off into silence while they hobnob
as they speak with a savvy obsequious chatter
their egos are fragile yet badger me to break out of my shell...
but i'm proud of it, hell
i'm protected and quelled by it so how could i fail?
i can spend hours without sprouting a noise
they're powerless without the sound of their voice
drowning out in the crowds, how am i frail?
pretending just to mask that pain
but i don't want to end up making krapp's last tape
when life's spool is wound, will i be a fool who's found
listening to the tunes and sounds
that i once had used to shout out loud
on cloud nine, frozen in ice
filled with guilt and treachery, guess i'm just rolling the dice
but my home is the present, these moments are precious
i won't let regrets in, these poems penned are a blessing
that i'll always be reppin' til i'm
old and decrepit, working on a song
looking back on the fire in me now i'm burning to be gone
asking how can i get into the gates of cathartica
at the pace that i started from
guess i’m late to the party huh, well...