Coming to terms with the self, in ways
unique to the self
days
over
days. Seekers seek the self. Stealth
in a wealth
of
shadows. The mist of this
hallucinatory
height
Is made of: Mountain. This
pen
a
font
of
Fountain. Chips pushed forward
lips speaking
onward
to
the seeking: Stalwart
Poet.
You fuckin know it. World
I
Set on
Fire
***
Cipher
Poems
***









So burn it all my friend, with your firesome pen!
Dope vibe!!!
Much respect
Naaj