The chaos is a creation
of indistinct figures,
these fallen formations
of monstrous
proportions,

abstract static
beats that are
automatic,
matter of facts
that lack
any clarity.

I am looking for
something
that is more
of a rarity
than diamonds
and gems,
some truth
staring back at me
that unclenches my teeth
and takes the scream
out of the pillow
I laid my face in.

That yankee
dandy daydream
isn’t satisfying,
it’s really
only a rally for
rich men
who are lying.

So, why the ****
do I keep on trying,
keep on crying
for some sort
of order,
the kind you
proport
angels report
to a higher being,
when I haven’t seen
******* thing
to make me believe
god exists.

So, as the bullets rip
through innocents
and right wing pundits
spin this creeping chaos
to suit their purpose,

I propose we end this
illusion,
this great god and state delusion.