ending up at the rhyme zone and race pens//
but that is just scribble or attempts to burn page//
and this is to express mind state and not to earn wage//
fingers feel guilty of sins and try to turn sage//
so for fun sake i kill metaphors and with a dumb face//
all the rhymz that i killed to keep munkys alive//
this time i lost words being a junkie tonight//
cuz i pulled off my word plug, to connect to the world//
i had to put off the candles,cuz tubelights are much preferred//
cuz my lines get complex and stay at the rock bottom//
fail to connect with problems,like smoke on the water//
so i sit and stare at my rhyme book,till blue sky turns to grey//
green grass burns to hay and my pen falls to prey//
how worse can it get,than tragic and pain,i start cracking in shame//
tryna add logic in them, creating magic in brains, with my music in veins//
i got nothing- here ,to lose it or gain//
so my writers block and my pen, creating fusion again//
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