It used to get real quiet in my jungle
In the deep dark soul kill still of the night.
I mean, really, surrounded by 8 or 9 million people you figure there should've been "something"to hear,anything besides the pumping, pulsing sound of blood rushing through the tiny vessels in my head. Even as I would whisper desperate wishes to my self, Even as I would scream at the silent world in my mind
Still there would be no noise. I would feel pain sometime so intense that I would wonder why I couldn't hear it as it lasts and bit into my soul striking at the very essence of my being
Yeah!, it was real quiet there in my jungle existing on the animalistic instincts of the nature of the Beast inside of me, the disease Beast unleashed by my allergy to the elixir of my death, a potion n all dressed up in a snake or a bottle label temporary transcendental freedom and included in every package free deck of cards all Jokers costume does angels with wings on fire falling down, down, down into a plane empty grave with a cardboard tombstone labeled
"Here lies a fool" Born:Never Really. Dead:Forever More.
Yeah! It was always so quiet in my jungle, I figure if I would have just kept on laying there, posted up lurking and listening, I wouldn't have even noticed my final breath,
I wouldn't have even heard myself croak,"Oh Shit"!
