The KeyMature

I learned the ancient language of rhyme in my sleep
I yearned, my patience vanquished, but this time I'm going deep

Rhymes surface in fractions, travel through external distractions, passing through metaphysical passages, entwined with the passion, to manifest into action
But expressing gets me stressed out and depressed 'cause nothing happens
So I set out on my quest to find my higher self and asked him...

Take a look at all these fractions, will they ever make a whole?
If I took all these distractions, sucked them up into a hole,
And let go of my reactions, could I ever take control?
All these questions too pure to answer, keep me guessing 'til I cure this cancer
Still I plead for a solution, as I bleed out this pollution of perception
I want divine intervention, not to mention, climbing in dimensions, to ascension
How benign is this convention? It's deception, but I'm inclined to find inception and I'll rest then
But I've already learned this lesson:

I'm not tied to this existence, I applied so much resistance, and cried out for assistance, asked to die in any instance, or ride out in the distance
I wished it every chance I got, and I missed it, every glance that I forgot, but with persistence, I'll advance until I rot
And then I'll rise, from these limits I despise, and I'll be free
But you will see it with my eyes, I guarantee
A promise I won't compromise, yes you will see
But until then, I will devise a way to be
A way to coincide, to a degree
And when my elements collide this time, I will not flee
I will just step outside, I find I have the key 

The End

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