astro physicist's and

philosopher priest's

have discovered and,

uncovered the truth

behind sheltered belief.

resurrection, The coming.

the second incantation,

the mercy of God.

Observers from the fleshy heavens

cast a 7 headed angel,

but dubious onlookers are

too wise to be bought.


anthos was a martyr

while Sybil drank

Absinthe through a straw.

lemonade serinades the paper mache

desirabilty to reproduce without

Personal gradification,

the impossible feat.

we must continue for what it is

When it's a Sin to breathe.


A luxurious fortress

at the brunt of this utopia,

central air conditioning,

A mistletoe Tuesday morning

confirmation that What we think we are,

we actually are not.

The beast within the word's

that's made it's way forth.

it's becoming translucent

that their one tracked mind

Has found derailment and discourse.

i do spread this gospel

for it is my one and only chance,  

under a thatched roof gazebo,

a pedestrian's chant,


without notion they point

their index finger

to the direction of the cause,

That created the shame.

but like any true justice,

the disgusting truth is that

they've been pointing in

the direction of  a mirror in place

the men have fled the city's

to merge in the west,

what really will save you today is

the bullet proof vest

but it's not blessed with

an invisible reassurance

that there's escape from this mess,

it's more so appreciated for

the finely knitted threads,

creating a shield of protection,

under the assumption

he doesn't point to my face

when he aim's

i can understand their views but

is it enough for me

to live by the shame

Author's Notes/Comments: 

i hate this

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