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Epidural through my dermal Causing high thermal Up my spine Kundalini in rhyme End time or ensign Of the divine Alive in my mind Slippery slope to cope On phonetic dope Verbological illogical hope Juxtaposed jargon and I eloped And escaped to a planet remote Perfect prose verbose he knows But continues Cascading his flows Barricading to oppose Those whom are supposed To forcibly impose Less highs and more lows Detour and reroute my mouth From the initial subject Subjected and subjugated By those berated and hated Our pain was once paraded Making love to have faded When jaded Nearly impossible To have been persuaded But the impossible Became probable Then it became okay to delay Through words conveyed The exact thoughts Or feelings we intended to say Not pretended to pray Although we preyed On filament flesh freyed Too much humility Had kept me entirely hidden A little sprinkle of E-go Made me go From bed ridden To word smitten Nomore disturbed curb bidding Mister E Is known as mystery Babylon Because I babel on And my perfectly perforated pleasantries Are sent heavenly Even if heavily The weight remains steadily Blessing thee Is it Tiny 'Tim or us'? We must either be savagely carniverous or timorous I spit wit, with my wic lit In a method vigorous Elevating my resident resonance Reducing any dissident dissonance With lyrical viciousness Alongside my pride And deliciously disciplined diligence Exacting fact with tact Yet never frivolous But meticulous Until my 'spit hit the dust'! ~SkTzO