Nyte Owel's Grimoire [ poem ]

Come home from work... almost tomorrow, midnite. everyone else is either trying to sleep, whose inside, but outside is another story, another vibe, and in this world, this country, most would say..... wats wrong with me?....

its thirty minutes past three, am prime time fa me, not the pm, 3.5 more hours i gotta be up in runnin, but the nite owel blood is, only thing ma hearts pumpin, dont sleep on ma bread, this is anotha nite time, aka my time, soul chi and mind time to peak, 3rd power wit da tree, Lookin up grinnin knowin how dat shine be, primin same timin as da vampires dynin.