The Clouded Mind

I do my damage with a pen.
To create, one must first destroy to begin.

I create fire. A lightning strike.
The neural connections burn louder than the mic.

The beauty burried deep within each line,
Conveys our message, its not just mine.

I do my damage with my mind.
If you were to open it, I'm sure you would find.

An incessant jumbling of words and verse.
So complex, its becoming a curse.

To be trapped within this mix of water and muscle,
Twenty-one years of breathing the hustle.

A cloud of comprehension blocks out the sun.
To see the sun, the rain would have to come.

I can't have both, I must choose one or the other.
"Look a quick shower", everybody run for cover.