"I'll show thee every fertile inch o' th' island,
And I will kiss thy foot. I prithee, be my god"
It is he who fills my plate with penny
So, I return the gratitude in plenty
I took his pennies and never did I feel empty
Red, silver and scarlet there are so many
Would I stare with frenzy or count one to twenty?
The door of my conscience is locked
So did I absorb?
The torture of Gog and Magog
Everything I do now is
Much ado about nothing
I became the scion of darkness
I was crowned with Babylonian fiendishness
I had everything to charm and to alarm
To those who fail to succumb
To the lord that empowered my élan
To His feet I pledged
My allegiance of insurance
How can I revert now?
Like demon magicians I did avow
My soul under his bough
Rather I can do one thing now
I can idolize my white knight and sponsor
In the talk show, promotion or daily soap
Repeating his bounties under lie detector
Who knows how many progenies are there in the line?
Who were invited before me in his salacious dine?
The fruits, salads, meat roasts, wine and damsel
In bare ******* could serve them a feast of Fife
Displaying the raptor world in the shade of Eglantine
However, a little bit more burst
To cool my masters' unrelenting lust
Can seal my ignoble fate
With perennial gifts and trusts
I will keep preaching my master's crescendo
Cloaking it with metaphor's of poetic innuendo
Wisdom and words from his box of tricks
Will be my WMD to ruin the uber smart freaks
Who can out fool the serpent of evil?
When I will get the ticket to
Fly from Wall Street to London
To give lectures as if I am The Noam Chomsky
Theorizing natural hierarchy in front of millions
The naysayers keep rioting to demand my execution
But like the trash they will be flushed to oblivion
My religion is to plea for His majesty's mercy
I know whenever I will defy like Satan's pride
He himself will greet me again with wealth glorified
Don't misinterpret me, don't despise me either
What I see in you is the same yearning
Rather with a face of a grim and terrible onlooker!
Perhaps there is some contentment in seeking restitution
But, I see the world is aflame in its karmic retribution
So, this is my space, to the feet of my Masters' shoelace
The noblest of life is led by those whose gracious art
Be saved, on pain of punishment for his master's bait!
Nov 22, 2017
Nov 22, 2017 at 12:04 AM UTC
"I'll show thee every fertile inch o' th' island,
And I will kiss thy foot. I prithee, be my god"
It is he who fills my plate with penny
So, I return the gratitude in plenty
I took his pennies and never did I feel empty
Red, silver and scarlet there are so many
Would I stare with frenzy or count one to twenty?
The door of my conscience is locked
So did I absorb?
The torture of Gog and Magog
Everything I do now is
Much ado about nothing
I became the scion of darkness
I was crowned with Babylonian fiendishness
I had everything to charm and to alarm
To those who fail to succumb
To the lord that empowered my élan
To His feet I pledged
My allegiance of insurance
How can I revert now?
Like demon magicians I did avow
My soul under his bough
Rather I can do one thing now
I can idolize my white knight and sponsor
In the talk show, promotion or daily soap
Repeating his bounties under lie detector
Who knows how many progenies are there in the line?
Who were invited before me in his salacious dine?
The fruits, salads, meat roasts, wine and damsel
In bare ******* could serve them a feast of Fife
Displaying the raptor world in the shade of Eglantine
However, a little bit more burst
To cool my masters' unrelenting lust
Can seal my ignoble fate
With perennial gifts and trusts
I will keep preaching my master's crescendo
Cloaking it with metaphor's of poetic innuendo
Wisdom and words from his box of tricks
Will be my WMD to ruin the uber smart freaks
Who can out fool the serpent of evil?
When I will get the ticket to
Fly from Wall Street to London
To give lectures as if I am The Noam Chomsky
Theorizing natural hierarchy in front of millions
The naysayers keep rioting to demand my execution
But like the trash they will be flushed to oblivion
My religion is to plea for His majesty's mercy
I know whenever I will defy like Satan's pride
He himself will greet me again with wealth glorified
Don't misinterpret me, don't despise me either
What I see in you is the same yearning
Rather with a face of a grim and terrible onlooker!
Perhaps there is some contentment in seeking restitution
But, I see the world is aflame in its karmic retribution
So, this is my space, to the feet of my Masters' shoelace
The noblest of life is led by those whose gracious art
Be saved, on pain of punishment for his master's bait!
Request permission to use this poem