Drinking in Gethsemane

I've been reflecting upon my memories Pondering all that which I have found distinctly bothersome It feels as though each time I write my mind does search the centuries So I will deliver what I have discovered in the paunch of heathendom Don't talk about any drinking or writing of poems Unless for the latter you're one that is known for your thinking Then I will consider to host you at home I don't drink for the sake of celebration Or for the finding of courage Or for the purpose of numbing dejection And that's a rejection encouraged For better or worse I drink for the reason of testing liver Not searching for what any feeble liquid delivers Competitive spirits are really dangerous with substances But I won't live my life a string of unexciting instances As long as I know what true substance is I'll raise my lips to fizz I don't need your augurs Reaper tells me what my future is Chasing, what I am chasing Don't need a relationship Skip the lust and distraction Focusing all of my mortal attraction Purely on craft and its colorful facets Manifold aspects Challenging whole Governments in a way better than Dole Feeling the beat and the rhythm of soul Pushing myself to be another great Knowing tellurian never will sate Drinking from chalice and eating from bowl Waiting to gormandize incoming plate Darkened garden Where creativity roams Angels and demons Outside their mythic tombs I cry by my bloody bedside Knowing what my Moira brings I know where the gods of yore lie And that which drowned in Time's streams Alpha Of the pack and you can guarantee it Ali Baba But I don't find my treasure in thieves' pit Doing this since '99 Some think I have come before 'Cause my discourse and my rhymes Make it seem I've lived in yore Reincarnated from a fountain pen Which is why I'm so used to being an instrument of greatness I just let my soul dig into ether and glean my ken Before I decide to reveal the extent of its vastness I am not concerned with your moralistic improvement I am only interested in my forward movement If you think I'm gonna die Then lay me in my tub to rest I don't want to hear a sigh The next morning when you confess That I was really messed up Or have to clean my throw-up Well guess what I rose from that holy faucet like bishop I don't find my glee in a bottle It's just a fact of life that I can only go full throttle And no I don't see any mistakes Or any regrets So call off your bets You may be upset But I'm eschewing monetary and emotional debt Rap too odd or party too hard Energy you can expect from a bard Darkened garden Where creativity roams Angels and demons Outside their mythic tombs I cry by my bloody bedside Knowing what my Moira brings I know where the gods of yore lie And that which drowned in Time's streams I was trained to write my woes upon a piece of paper Using isolation as my ammunition like a sniper And I'd slither through abyss And save my lips for succubus What are you willing to concede If objective is to succeed Keeping my momentum You're a mass with no velocity At least be honest with your animosity Malignity is how many folks seem to find felicity And that's including dash of aforementioned stark mendacity I could sell you king's new clothes with my hot flows I could sell you lava even after the mount blows When I put the pen to paper I'm expecting masterpieces Making runes so sweet that you could even call them Reese's Pieces