Sonnet 2 Templed caskets matrix physicality, I wonder if heaven got a ghetto? The accursed accrue immorality But life goes on, smoke rings are blown to cope Busted thought bubbles mimic shattered dreams. When life ain’t lifing, how can you judge me? When the cadence of my canter recedes, Will I burn in hell, at the gates make a scene? But this goes back to physicality. How can I burn in hell with no body? Bodied now no body, the dichotomy. Hell, hell ain’t no hotter than Hennessy. Caskets no longer mason dark prophecy. Yet reveal the matrix’s auto atrophy.