Peace in These Pieces

 

Verse 1: 

Affection assassinates - I'm too altruistic,

My heart’s a hostage, held in halls of the mystic.

Trust is a toxin, truth turns me timid,

I'm torn between temples and tenets I never admitted.

Selfless to a fault, like saints in the scriptures,

But pain paints poems in paradox pictures.

Peace in these pieces? A puzzle with pride,

I’m a prophet at war with the pulse that's inside.

I Can’t fake the funk, no fraud in the frame,

I’m flames in the forge — ain't a fraud in my name.

Half-hearted? Never. My art’s in ascension,

Each line a lesson, I’m the class in the tension.

Lifelong learner with a page as my preacher,

Pen bleeds purpose, every phrase is a feature.

Chapter begins — I’m the ink and the plot,

A phoenix with pens, I’m what legends forgot.

(ad-libs):

Yeah... that’s grown man talk...

"Peace costs pain, bruh..."

"Write through the war, my dawg..."

Verse 2: 

I spoke to the stars and they echoed my ache,

Soft-spoken soldier with a weapon of grace.

Love is my labor, but it labors me too,

Plant seeds in the soil just to pray they break through.

Balance is delicate, dance on a blade,

My spirit been tired, but I still give it praise.

Can't build on betrayal — that base too brittle,

Still I lace these riddles like sacred scribbles.

All I ever gave was soul, no filter,

Each line laced with a lifetimes elixir.

Can't numb the truth, I feel it like thunder,

Peace isn't soft, it's forged in hunger.

I'm not pretending, I'm not pretending,

If I give, it's whole — no piece for lending.

This the chapter of fire, the page don't fold,

I walk through the silence with faith untold.

(ad-libs)

"Sheesh… speak that spirit."

"That’s royalty right there…"

"Truth don’t need no armor."

Verse 3: 

Peace in these pieces? Nah, that’s a paradox, where trauma been tap dancing in a pair of socks.

I write with the ghosts of the gods in my margins, the ink in my pen got the weight of a Martian.

I gave more than I got, that’s a lopsided ledger,

Still built an empire with bars and no measure.

Every verse is a vessel, a blessing in code,

I spit manuscripts molded from pressure and cold.

I’m the sum of my scars, ain’t no shame in that math,Each wound is a glyph, every line is a path.

I don’t rhyme, I resurface with purpose and wrath, took the pain, made a prism, broke the cycle in half.

Yeah, I'm calm now — but don't mistake still for settled, still got fire in my belly, ink heavy as metal.

It's chess, not checkers, I sacrifice kings, For the peace I been searching’ in these symphonies I sing.