With tones of words, in my mind are confined;
I try as much as I can, but I'm unable to rhyme...

It holds the breath, the flowing of the red.
Keeping you sane, in that muddy bed...

I'ma fallin on hard times, wantin to bust a rhyme,
Tryin to shoot ma cr*p, Dyin for just a dime...

There was a time, I rode a horse,
A mighty steed it was...

Far into the night, no sign of any light,
I hear faint whispers of my past...

On a wintry eve, when a crust of frost,
Turns my bones to rust and hair to snow...

O! The wild allure in your sweet repose,
Incites and ignites the passion within...

Crimson trees with a greenish fade;
Colorful leaves in form of a spade...

A thousand days, A thousand nights,
Without a will, without a fight...

The night falls with a silent sigh;
Sounds of the rain can't see nor deny...

Look at them smile,
Did you miss the glint...

Standing at the doorway,
Watching as you go away...