Diamonds Made Pressure.

They told me to apply that pressure
Only way that diamond is going to come out, Is if you apply that pressure
Planting my flag in the territory of the so-called reality because an army needs a flag
A flag with colors that illuminate nothing, but love.
A flag whose territory has been trying to be colonized, colonized by those with deep pockets and short hands.
Colonized by those that told us to turn the other cheek, when they couldn't even turn theirs, as they bluntly look into our eyes, and rob us in-front of our faces.
My army waves it's flag in their territory, casting a beacon of light to those that close their eyes to the fantasy, and see with the eyes of the spirit.

Can it be that it was all so simple,
can it be that the single actions of the depraved minds caused ripples of blindness to our eyes in the ocean of life, because every living creature in it, looks back to the hard times, and just like that, they become the good old times to their children, and grand children.
In their stories, the winters become warmer, and the smiles become more lighter.


Growing up from a vast mass of land
right in the middle of the Garden of Eden
filled with a thousand hills that synchronize together to make one aesthetic view
even though its inhabitants are constantly blinded by the fantasy that has been bestowed upon them against their will. Clinging to meaningless standards that deprive them of their one true standard.

This same virus, shoots it's rays across the lands of the East, causing a blindness to their mental states, but as we know love, and know ourselves, we know that we were always our greatest enemy, and greatest Friend. In the midst of all the achievements, the hard times will eventually be the good old times, making them the stone that the builder refused. Those times, became the ultimate pressure that birthed the diamond.