As I path down these chartered streets of city Johannesburg. I most definitely feel the air curling
from the dead souls that wonder around. Sometimes you could visualize them moving with the piles of plastics lifting them above ground. A city with no sea filled with people who claim they see the truth for what it really is.
Yet become so busy during the course of the day they forget the sole purpose of life, to live.
Called upon as city of jewelry, it's crust open and left dried out of resources.
Saturday morning, I'm not quite certain about the season but dead leaves kept circulating the air above.
piles of them ready for execution as they dance around in no fear.

The dead have none to fear
A message Left on the gates of Eden.
Far East situated a resident never to be located by man, entered by spirit located by prayer
The home of the deceased
dreams that once lit the town bright at day and night. I had the upmost honorable moment spend with one of them,
he was so sweet.
I can remember clearly his last words when he said " this city is a dark pit, wide from the outside, narrower where it matters" I could tell there was wise in his voice. But a year battling ur inner hope here is a decade
The substitute for Hollywood in South Africa, Johannesburg. It's really something I've only ever heard about till now. Up until my poverty started speaking up.