I have been born from the darkness of my mothers womb into a world of a disease ridden nation. Like a dungeon of horror where no yells of mercy may echo to bring ease to them and others, who like me, are chained to there lasting words that in spite will stake them in their sleep.

Disease of the mind and soul, no marks imbelging on their bodies, only in their eyes of fright, So that in shining truth, our lost knight in armor , will prove we have grown weary of our foes and angry with ourselves, a dried sediment of hope, virtually crumbling impalicably, considering the indirect damage that sails in this futures path.

Doctrains of liberty and states man of knowledge have yet to come forth, some decent in act and right, with a procalim, so here they have succeeded to the expired limit of decline and revolt.

Freedom of the ill-fated and ill-hearted has dawn reign in the center of these communities to the peak of vengence and violence. What right do I hold,a blood lord, to imprison the minds of the vulnerable in a cloud of complex prosperities....