“Loneliness is an art shaped by self-love.”

At times being oblivious keeps me more alive in this chaos.

You hit the soft spot of me making my heart skip a beat.

You are my tamed fire in the wind.

Poetry is a home, a home with joy.

No pain no worries only the beating of our hearts.

If I had wings and could fly I’d fly all seas to see your unseen beauty amid the whispers of love.

Everything seems to be a design – a mixture of prejudice and injustice – the limbo of silence.

Without you, my heart will be full of weeds.

We love to live with sweet lies until reality touches the edges, of those sweet lies.

Into you, like the sun embraces the moon – a beautiful eclipse.

We all bound by beauty with a touch of singularity.

Just realized that moonlight was just a matchmaker for the stars.

Destiny is wisdom.

I heal me for I heal you.

Listen to the beat of beauty with your heart.

To be a radical fight you within you – a solitary battle.

Your life can become the background for the art you create.

I feel I have a responsibility to myself, a responsibility to explain where we’re coming from. Because a song or the performance of a song is a lot like a work of art.

If you work at rap and look at it as an art, the money will come. But if you try to get the money, it’ll just always be shallow.

I don’t know why people expect art to make sense. They accept the fact that life doesn’t make sense.

Boxing’s in my genes. I come from a fighting background. My dad and both my uncles were good boxers. I’m blessed with the art of war.

Despite my extremely modest prices, dealers and art lovers are turning their backs on me. It is very depressing to see the lack of interest shown in an art object which has no market value.

Today, I painted with blood.

Even if you were to lose it all – you would still be art.