Elijah

Mythos of the Poet

I'm scared as hell to say these are my last days, so I pray

To myself in a most unusual way.

I write it all down like I'm doing right now, and send it away

Hoping tomorrow is here to stay.

There is only one and nothing at all.

To separate the two would be to fall

So I did, but this is where I stand tall:

Man dreamt of a Man named Elijah, and I answered his call.

He woke with a sweat, you best bet, he couldn't forget.

He sets in perfect retrospect, and sees his world is wrecked

So in it he erects a text to in effect, direct a perfect respect

For Man and his defect.

Where he woke was strange, people telling him he's in pain

He strained to explain his plain thought train

The African plains aren't in pain without rain

They don't complain 'cause they have no brain

You're no less alive simply 'cause I'm not you, and you're not I

So do, or do not, you cannot try to understand why,

Nor can you pry open your mind to spy from outside.

You is you, and I is I, and at end of time we all die.

There is only one and nothing at all.

To separate the two would be to fall

So I did, but this is where I stand tall:

Woman cried for a Man named Elijah, and I answered her call.

Where they met he forgets but remembers loins wet

With blood absent from regret, only the intent to protect

What life expects us to reflect, perfect respect

For the prospect of introspect and intellect

But life grows too old and cold to hold alone, so you're told,

"hold steady", "get ready", and "be bold"

For the one who'll have stole the show already

Not the one that fed he, but a lady of sexuality

She came from space with stars in her face

I stayed in a chaste daze gazing at the paste

In the skin she displayed and in her my mind was made.

The pace was haste with no time for wasted days

There is only one and nothing at all.

To separate the two would be to fall

So I did, but this is where I stand tall:

Woman cried for a Man named Elijah, and I answered her call.