tha prophet
my verse is ill
when I spill it
like verbal cards
i deal it.
pickin’ prose
like figs
i peal it.
makin’ paralytics
feel it.
a fisher of men
i reel it.
dipped in holy
water, i heal it.
makin love
outta words
truth,
i reveal it.
with two lips
hands clasped
i pray and
i seal it.
amen
© amixon