Ancient whispers sweeping through tired skies blessed love An Angels melody the damned have fallen the sinners are dead War torn totality of humanity the clouds weep blood, our sun consumed in desolate tears for Gaia breathes no more.
Stained threads of purpose, clambering the ladder, stepping stones of succession, A charlatans profession. My personal preference is to Be forgotten, I am no man’s stepping stone, no check list item on the road, falsities are for another, so let’s not pretend, bridges burned to the very end. Bridges burned to the very end.
Rot mutating at the very core churning entitlement disease an epidemic of waste, as eyes die and skin becomes mottled. Souls decaying between the silent beats of a ravaged war whilst ancient wisdom falls from the page one letter at a time. The conceptualisation of ideology lost in the sphere of thought. I am, I must, I therefore… We have become the beldam of humanity, with blind eyes, scarred hearts and jars of pickled morals aside our broken values left to soak in the bitter tincture of ego blessed in whispered incantations of pride. Yes. Humanity is this worlds Beldam.
A am a speck Star dust. An atom. A mass of atoms. A form created into structure. Biological evolution. I am a gender. A stereotype. Flesh, bones and grey matter.
And for the longest time the world’s axis stopped spinning at this realisation.
I am a speck. An atom among atoms. Star dust with an ancient soul, I am my reality Living within another’s surviving in a country among countries on a planet, among planets Within a universe… I am a speck.
The matrix island
wires, wired, wirelessly.
concept central, driving
the red hues of raging
rage, a slave to the angst
suffocating the exhaust
of a poisonous hum
of toxicity revving
of escape drifting
away on the back roads
of petrol pleated plumes
dreams of serenity…
…oh those dreams
that drive the mind
numbing beat of an
for the herd bred
I feel only pity. Not for you, for those touched by you. Those stained with your toxin breath and acid words. Those that hear the echoes of your banshee scream as dawn calls upon another day and they believe they converse with an angel.
I pity the God’s you pray to, the hyprocracy in your evening cries, the venom in your devil eyes. A descendant of lilith, fallen angels with blackened wings fanning the vile words falling from your spitting tongue.
The serpent coils through your soul, what embers of innocence once lay there now crushed, dispersed on trade winds to a lover and another and any poor fool consumed by your succubus melody and the broken strings of your violin.
But alas I will carry your lesson into tomorrow on the beating wings of spirits love forever at my side. My gain was your want, eternal without condition beyond the physical realm. Spiritual devotion rewarded now in universal bliss…
Your lessons taught me the value
Of true loves blessed kiss. Your game play was preparation, for me to become his. Your poison was the toxin in my climb
as I learned self worth and when my King
took stand to claim his Queen,
I knew I was worthy this time.