Apart

Apart from this art I handle, depart asunder that I split cradles.

Tiles dividing from my rattle yowl, rappers scat the battle.

Unleashed rage fuming howls, inner beast wails.

I mean well, but oh well, lyrical assumption deeper then a well.

I accept foes, except they woe, Sepultura makes bulls go.

I know but life goes, but goals don't score upfold.

Whores get bored, but they want dick hard pass cardboard.

My uproar steadfast, steady grip last, lasso the last lad.

Past-tense makes my future tense I bleep for a reality trip.

Starships gaze at the rotary dips, constellations and battery tips.

Charge up the spilff, rods hot lickety-split, ice cold as lickery shit.