Confessions in the Dark
Before the prayers and pleas, before the knees hit the ground, there was a time when pride ruled and faith was just a word. The voice was loud in the trap, cold steel always close, and the heart numb to anything but survival. Dizazta wasn’t always begging God—he was once knee-deep in the sins he chose to embrace, lost in a world where angels were absent and demons ruled the crossroads.
It all began in a basement, where grandma’s prayers floated upstairs while despair clouded the air below. Schoolbooks were tossed aside, ambition frozen, as Dizazta watched his big cousin bag weight with ease. The lesson was clear: money talks, prayers only echo. Faith was squeezed into a hollow techno beat, church on Sundays but sin by design. A hustler with a conscience out of sync, caught between two worlds.