Fee, Fie, Foe, Fum

I vocalize
No compromise
I require more
Than what's between her thighs

Truth told wrongly
Can be worse, than a lie told fondly

If I don't say amen when I pray
It's only because
My conversation ne'er ends with Almighty

Flew Air Can to Swiss lands
There I could shake hands
With new foes and old fans

I, cut my teeth on truth, knew no throttle
So no cap for me means more than beer bottle

The Way's crux
Is not, lions and crucifixion
Rather apathy
And a loss of conviction

I fiercely fight fear
For sake of feeling free
Forsaking fake meals
To be full not hungry

Fee
Paid with blood to free me
So my toll's to bring forth good fruit only

Fie
On Beelzebub's whispers
My whiskers do sense Satan's snickers

Foe
Will not snatch what He sowed
Nor stymie me as I do steadfastly grow

Fum
Yea I rise like fenghuang
Presaging auspicious days for kingdom

Reason I am striving every day for transparency
Is a royal doesn't get the luxury of anonymity
So figured I was fain to train ability
My capability for honesty, e'en on the steep
Escarpment—reputation
Commanded self
"Don't embrace the rock face to save face in desperation
Nor about-face when facing humiliation"
Table afore my enemies, still taste I elation

Annihilation
Of my vices
I won't accept when my fear or my flesh entices
Me to stray from narrow way
Two legs at a time, I put on my pants, each day
Pass I to posterity what cash couldn't offer
The kind of genes that don't fade in the washer

I was given seed, packet of ability
And a mindset, with incredible fertility
It can be hard, when you know, how much you must sow
But at least the Spirit is in charge of making it grow

I see beauty in creativity under constraints
Took a marble slab from quarry
And chiseled it to refinement
I believe, in the strength of restraint
And fulfillment that transcends
Purely carnal enjoyment
And I'm grateful to above, for my will
Used to seize the moment
And my pen, helping process
What my choices foment

Fee
Line
In my balance
With the good path, I strive, to remain aligned

Fie
Null
Countdown
My opposition's naught, and my cup is full

Foe
Word
Whatever might come my way
My pen won't be deterred

Fum
Bull
I pick up, my purpose, and run
Matador, to evil

I have
Faith, as my shield
Holy Ghost
The only sword I'll leave unsheathed
Alongside quill
I'm an instrument, of my Lord
My heartbeat's drum
The strum's His will
Pray my strings, generate the right chord