Author Information
The Skull Has A Multicolored Circle on The Forehead
I am the creator of an unknown sentiment
That flashes in the core of living
And upon the living Earth cultivates circles
Shown upon the cerebral processing
When you fail to pay attention to the body
My glance remains within every skull
Of the drunken and stupor shaking idiots
Those mules of garbage and instinct
That of the thousand spirits to inhabit
Chose gratification of the immediate senses
When mist and vapors distil the water
Suffocation comes slowly to the few who ignore
The laws of physics, those that you cannot see
But live in fear of remaining smug to the nature
Despite the harrowing of hell where Christ knew
His mistake.
They, the fools, made a peace pact and walked to the fires
To celebrate the living grace of butterflies
With the heads of their women wreathed in flowers
Bared breasts to the wild mires and pillars of scholars.
Then with jagged eyes they see the reality coming forward
Before the gunfire and knives lined up beneath the blindfolded
They could smell the curiosity that befell them
Bestowed upon each a new way of living
Can you overcome fear in the cold truth?
I am death
But you knew that already
I died once in the living state
Now I reside inside your subconscious
Manifest me!
You cowards!
