Captain’s Log… star date… I can’t read the star date
a decade has passed since I watched the last charts fade
And the last tell-tales and LEDs blinked their last info
into the mental inputs of the real captain of this star ship
but here I sit, the only member of the crew that remains
And for all I know the last remaining member of the human race
sent on this ship as a corridor sweeper and generally useless case
one more face among the swarms who boarded this escape ship into outer space
Now the crew gone without a trace, forever lost
all succumbing to radiation poisoning from a hidden source
leaving me sitting here on the bridge alone with my thoughts
staring at the view screen as the ship is locked into a collision course
with a black hole. so this is it… a message from the last soul
to ever record a message, stranded here on an atoll
an atom, a dust mote, floating on the solar winds
my scribbled rhyme book and pen now my only friends
moving, sinking, star ships enterprising
super nova galaxies are rising
new be ginnings as the end’s arriving
shooting over the event horizon
an atom, a dust mote, floating on the solar winds
my scribbled rhyme book and pen now my only friends
Yeah, I was a rapper on earth before the planet was blown away
and i got co opted on this one way trip and flown to space
Rap was the way my soul could play, linking syllables with potency
to paint graphic pictures with lexicographic poetry
couple couplets with sixteens, crammed with similes
metaphors, metonyms, myriad melliflous flows to create
a careful, yet effortless crafting like I was molding clay
I could freestyle with force and bring forth hope and dismay
draw the listener through the full spectrum flexing lyrics to own the profane
the sacred, the in between, to the outer limits and back home again
Now every being that used to have ears has been drowned in flames
I have no audience whatsoever here to spit out a phrase
and to present my rhyming, Ah well, the end’s arriving
the ship and me are ripped apart in an instant as we arrive in the tide of the event horizon.
moving, sinking, star ships enterprising
super nova galaxies are rising
new be ginnings as the end’s arriving
shooting over the event horizon
the end’s arriving, a second stretches to millennia prising
the ship, ripping it apart as we enter the event horizon
Or we entered it one endless nanosecond ago, comprising
blinding bright darknesses that swallow light behind them
my mind spreads from a body long destroyed, crushed to smithereens
consciousness still in the void, I enter dreams
of nothingness, no time, not even light beams
forever… never… then all of a sudden I’m inspired to freestyle some rhyme schemes
I begin to spit slang
at the end of time, I enter mind, and mine within the centre of forever to let it combine, intertwined with a tremendous rhyme, and then I let it just fly, wherever it’s night, let there be light, Spreading my lyrical wing span
the ink splats across an infinite canvas of my own creation, in a lexical big bang
I blast words and patterns and allow gas to amass
spread the creative text out evenly across a massive vortex
but to be certain that the poem can surge with
its own formational energy I deliberately insert some errors
mistakes to Make sure it’s perfect, and then the poems flex
the eloquent elements of my universe coalesce
space time, dark matter, super clusters down to planck lengths
with a solar system, a planet, a city, a building with a cerebellum of a rapper scribbling these exact raps in pen
