Heathen Feet
Insecurities runs towards it… fold after
fold… time fold! I’m confused but yet I stand my ground… I’m about to be
transform into the ground… rebirth into the Grim Reaper… without a soul,
without thought.
I am here to be commanded! He rested her
hand behind my back and gave orders one handed… his grim, her face, his nose,
her glare… scarf so high… business minded… election stare! Transform my genuine
thoughts… my innocent into fears.
Fight, anger and destruction among man
of nations that I have no quarrel against... brotheren create divisions and I have
not begun to shed one tear… I carry a scythe! They call it a rifle… I stood
deep… a helmet… they call it a halo.
They transform many of my brotheren’s…
many of my sisters into enemy of life! I am the carrier and the disposable, but yet
I went so far into these grand fields… landmines explosions in my mind and I can’t
begin to despair… because I call it forth with one single breath, with one
single rotation of my scythe.
Recycle and recite these words … I am
birthed into this world to rejoice everything and everything… for I am
everything and everything! Everywhere we are is not controlled by another… for
they are controlled by greed…
Something that has been preconceived…
pre-collected… pre-consumed… a disease infested within the womb… they are
birthed with the notion to control… they feast on death; they feast upon agony…
their obese… the belly of the beast! They’re gluttony has no rest, have no
feet!
Please gained stability… let you’re
awareness bring forth flesh to you… let you’re understanding decay your scythe…
let your love bring sight… let that helmet wither away… let your back sprout
out wings because peace is what you are… love is what we are… we’ll dine in
heavens doors and let these heathens eat their own feet's.
No comments:
Post a Comment