Rest In Power, Christopher Rios.

Savor these few dying days (once)

Catch the freedom out your cries
Throw the fun away
Critical hardcore til we spiritually creating our laws

Big Dogs sit on the darkside of the moon
Barking in polysyllable triplets with amazing breath control

Born in middle of asthma capital of the world
With no safety manual for living in shadows

Just innate ability to communicate
With other souls searching for salvation

From devil’s mezzazine hoping to be beside
The royal throne never all alone except
When isolation is necessary to scream through

Darkness behind congested Corazon
No satisfaction for the reaper smile through fear

Insecurity is slippery slope to insanity
So much vanity that will keep you vicious

All pain non specific floating between gut and grey matter
So much sadness seeing potential wither

Like murderous stale raisins in sun
No plastic wrapping

Toe tapping to remix quiet storm swirling inside
Cloudy lungs from twisting too much scripture

Exit will hit you where the Lord quit you
Keeps carrying you through desert deading demons
Who tempt you to dance in dry twilight

Whatever you write
Must bob and weave and bite
Like when you protect yourself in life’s fight