I still deny the rules and social ties of citizen spies

that i televise by shouting chanted anthems into the sky

yet to comply with the codes of conduct i defy

as you synthesize the number and size

i am careful not to compromise the lost light within my eyes

my cold gaze reflective of your demise

and i

scrutinize them until they realize they're being penalized for the lies

until maggots monopolize your corpse through your cries

until pulled away by the hissing of shadowed flies that fly into the lost light in my eyes

until my pupils cauterize

locking you inside

institutionalised

and i

am imprisoned in a prism of realism

as anti social collisions have me pulling my soul through verbal incisions

seeping radioactive emissions

from the legions of religions

from the season of rhyme without reason

failure to pay darkened tuitions is now treason

as catastrophic cataclysms lock me away in my primal visions

my verbal inflictions as though holy missions to infuse friction

smashing through my divided contradictions and feeding my addictions

good riddance

There's a nemesis on the premises

watching through the crevices of my hellishness

watching the precious homage paid to my delicate testaments of corruption and bitterness

yet to know observation is venomous if hesitant

the evidence is irrelevant while you wait on a settlement of peace from a benevolent king

back stabbing sentiments have no precedence over the decaying elements of my eloquence

not one finger can touch the decadence of my mental inhabitants

with whispers of shadows within their em-battlements

some go celibate from the spiritual experiments

in villainous line scrimages

consumed

with images of pillaged villages

baffled

in the battle to dismantle the soul scandals

manhandling rambles through foolish gambles

we each blow out our own candles

Left for dead

Strangled

And i heighten the enlightened

while writing of my confinement

still fighting amongst the frightened under lunar alignments

still working consignment for devils in retirement

holding souls in lament, to later examine it

you could only but fathom it

tragedies immaculate

Sun shone but once and the grass covered the sidewalk

stare upon the core

that in which adored

be no more

no more


strain the eyes to see

burning

blinding

loving


in warmth of touch

light disrupt

the curse

dispersed

in ashes

oh the unholy chores of my withered lord

of my remorseless discord

must stop the hordes as though an indian from the cupboard

smothered

in the rugged stubbornness of my hellacious mischief and deviance

sounding out the ingredients of my grievances and disobedience

patient expediance.