The trails of inkings on the drainage of life
Shall build a confluence with savages in drive.
And when tomorrow speaks of today’s morrow
My voice will stand aloft in the future’s combo

Here i am asking where i am where am i?.
And the spirit of the lost ‘I’ in my rhythm
remember to forget the remembered in time.
Thus silenced is the tick of my silent clock’s hand.

Get behind me the fronts of my back
And come before the thoughts of my kinds
Because i will chorus the line of my feature
That i have a word for the future

Please wait a bit as i race past huddles
Freaked but graced a grace fast buckled
Let me give the word a loose in lip’s door
As i say I have a word for the future.

Micheal Ace


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