Mass Worderer: 'Lyrical, As-Saturation'

 Ink spills will fill pages with intent
Think chills wit kills lyrically spent
It's thru maturation a saturation steeps,
then burst, dispersed boiled over
an eruption reeks
If thy will further this blotch  
of ink I fear EYE will
be murderous,
swiftly spewing spit
from the Worderous...

Wonder US why won't
you? The masses asks

Kiss my fast flow
as I go ass in to the elbow

So sweet god's light
into the inking night
I write's a fright hour
my verbal power towers
emittin' sight hott
ejectin' what eye's got
your lot-heard-me
this ink in' spree is my plight

Ghastly, like ghosts aflight
the Worderer's leavin'
'know witlessness' in sight
with every shot of black ink
spilled from ill-heights
innately illumination's
always bright

a beacon,
for a Worderous nation
afore hazed, dazed
n' all-ways running left
til he writes 'em right!