SOUL'E RHYMEZ WORLD

To you my coy lady, why on me this yoke is laden? The thought of you weighs me down, To murder your frown, I'm now a clown. You angel that seized my heart, who enslaved me to your love for years, yet never gave me your eyes and ears. I will tell the world about you. I will tell them how much I love you, I will tell them how much I want you. Heavens don’t want to be told of this, so I will tell the world about you. I will stand on the wall of Jericho and blow the trumpet, I will cause them to tremble again, I will tell the world about you. I will make way on the red sea, I will stand on the cedar of Lebanon, I will cry out in the silent city to proclaim my love for you I will bath with hyssop and robe myself with the finest linen, I will wear the best spray and sanders, I will make myself fit for you. ...

To this damsel worth celebrated, To this lass so talented, Whose name was incorporated among the complicated and twisted like she was wanted wasted, Her name is Toborated. Too much she tolerated, Seems make her name evaporated, Like it was in a debated so heated, Though offended, she defended, but she quickly repented. Such act is to be celebrated, Such maturity is elevated and Toborated is to be invigorated. As written by Soul’e Rhymez ™ For Toborated © 2016