• It laughs at me, rolling about on mud squealing,
    With a cruelest of all indifference, sent by devils,
    As to examine blame carried society, tipping toes,
    Where to the plane, divided by notions of heaven and hell,
    Simply a time line uncorrupted, at its fullest and warmest.

    This plane, where Reich after Reich assembled,
    Outside its gates, cutting to halves freedom worth not,
    And the ocean of red, whom prophets of old foretold,
    Rose up, all while corpses remained forever on the same water level,
    That they, such like blood, were too thick for their own goods.

    Red Mars and his infinite assassins, country by country,
    Raising futures dictated on famines, hunger which primal decays replace sane men,
    Raging disease, riding upon the ground in such gallop while maggot kin take vestige,
    As outbreaks of stone walled men driven into shackles of a dominoes effect, known war,
    All to fit into ravaged bones of former selves, joining Anubis's balanced destiny.

    Abhor the gates, consuming pleasure whereby showing no reaction,
    To men, to children, to women, wallowing on the other side,
    As all the beggars began pounding on walls, bleeding fists showing doomed resolves,
    Where wastes consume, carnage delicately decorates its intestines,
    Abroad for all to see, hastening sentimental sides to drip one bloody step at a time.

    Love and loss have absolute attention, yet favors non,
    For it like guns and fodder and spears, are tools mortals play with,
    Like dolls, whom when spoken to with heart's desire,
    Never reply, making users become scholars of their own questions,
    Where guardian angel is and always has been, nothing more then stain glass in a chapel.

    I walk with them, though not by my own terms,
    Yet what makes me human, a will unwavering, so egotistical as to folding,
    Uneven edges where my sanity met giagantic canyons, unbound by boundaries never drawn,
    I see my body dissipate with the very sweat, slipping into air valleys,
    And my creative torturer, lashed me at each turn of new door knobs.

    I thought a silly reason, for my life's purpose grew thin,
    So I thought the silly reason, but not to only continue dragging chains,
    Which seemed to take on old rust that resembled my own, my age,
    Thoughts seen like birds flying through, from an unparalleled world,
    The reason came forth, beckoning me to protect and grow old with these new images.

    And it seemed for one magnificent while, to be truest of all,
    Yet angels became, demons raised, from broken self arguments,
    With one clash, cherished flew into rocks erect,
    I screamed as a struggle ensued for what tiny remains were left, but earth,
    She was no more, where scattered pieces of land never fit once more.

    When God came down, apparently out of forgotten gates,
    Gates I choose to stop remembering, forsaken to an entire star's collapse,
    One that welcomes with rosy outlines, faced with sighs directed only at me,
    I asked for this omnipotent king, whom set out and slain a deceitful phoenix marked betrayer,
    A simple thing, praying on bended knee.

    But almighty never seemed to care, only releasing a crusade of arch angel vengeance,
    Denying any petition, only wishing to become one with it's fool children,
    Broke my deal never made, but only offered,
    This cruelest of all beings, letting me live on murky clouds and overbearing palaces above,
    Without my reason, I merely fell away,
    To the same forsaken earth where I had met my believe system, waiting patiently,
    For some sort of second coming, one whom I truly worshiped,
    Waiting silently, crippled to my own terms of sweet demise.