I awaken mornings feeling upbeat,
Praying my prayers set like concrete.
But No!
This repetitive routine has no soul.

Perhaps I'm praying wrong.
Perhaps He prefers a song,
A Hallelujah chorus
To **** of the Anti-Christ.
(but the Creature lives... it ***** up all our hopes).

I'll pray again tonight:

Now I lay me down to sleep.
And pray that God won't willfully keep
That blakened spot he calls his soul,
Dispatched to Hell for our repose.

one person said: "peace is nothing but illusion
all I want is retribution"
[from "Pure Power" by Zardonic]
that's something I can identify with, which is why
I decided to write this heap of lines
————————————————————————————————
on a shooting range in a boondock la[ɛ]nd
with gloves pU̲t on; sta[ɛ]nd
in front of an autocratic ruler chained
by his hands to two moola safes'
[greed]
handles looking way
like an old-fangled car directing wheel
[steering wheel]
have this die-hard fool restrained
so that he, more or less, is still
I'm not a scho[ɑ]lar who can wave
around a degree in the medics field
but it's obvi this high-hat dO̲U̲chebag's plagued
with megalomania in a neglected condition
but there's a dreadfully effectual treatment
and he'll get it like villains
quite a gruesome fate
is looming upon this power-befuddled ****
like darkened clouds that, beyo[ɑ]nd a doubt, are soon to rain
["dark end"]
like waveriders, he's go[ʌ]nna serve
["surf"]
as a punchbag for I'm in quite a mood to raze
gonna wI̲nd up as nada short
of a ****** loon today
like Battinson, clepe me Vengeance
but I'm more something like the Zorro-looking caped
anti-autocratic vigila[ɛ]nte
from the Norsefire-ruled UK
[V from "V For Vendetta"]
meets someone whose work field's tormenting
like victimizers who pertain
to LE in one tsar-sized off-putting state
[law enforcement]
you know, the one that's go[ɑ]t a putrid trait
of always posing as a side you shouldn't blame (it's all the West!)
(now, let's go back to the foul autocrat)
like a jerky boss that you disdain
I give this no[ɑ]b a cool g'day
by douching him from a bo[ɑ]ttle full of straight-
-fro[ʌ]m-a-cooler H2O; just a fE̲w secs break
for him, & once it's U̲p, I ****** this base
being fro[ʌ]m a stE̲wpot great
with **[ɑ]t-a## noodles aimed
into this hU̲mbug's stupid face
[the "hang noodles on the ears" expression]
pepper it with some ground 7-po[ɑ]t to boost the taste
feel how I, like a husband who betrayed
his devoted, yet testy, wife, get rudely gazed
at, racked, beda[ɛ]mned (by who?)
by food-lacking men from Africla[ɛ]nd
[Africa]
ask him: "is the provided food okay?"
zero gratitU̲de displayed
all that comes from this sno[ɑ]t's bazoo's complaint
but nO̲[ɑ]t that I'm surprised
a typical pro[ɑ]sperous gobshite
the tack priorly applied
I do the same with a bucket full of maroonish paint
[autocrats have blood on their hands, hence "maroonish paint"]
like that music producer famed for dull future bass
I put on his viscous head a **** bucket
[Marshmello]
whereafter pick a wedge up & drum it
[golf wedge]
and, like a heap, I barely get started
[worn-out car]
like an unprepped passenger on an insane car ride
with no seat restraints applied
he's about to have a way hard time
I'm a cosmetic surgeon that operates part-time
fix his blamed jawline in just twain sharp swipes
with a steel bat, then yield some keen slaps
that meet his kneecaps until the knees snap
like the Baba Yaga hitman detached
from his peaceful life by someone ge[ɪ]tting him mad
[John Wick]
get his nails removed
which is pretty much the same that you do
when you repaper a room
[wall nails]
having perforated his fingertips
I ge[ɪ]t 'em plastered
a few minutes later, I rip them things
off 'kin/sim. to wax strips
he gets his phA̲[eɪ]lanxes smitten with
a freaking ratchet
[rathet wrench]
pro[ɑ]b'ly, he regrets
that his bo[ɑ]dy's still not dead
pick U̲p a pistol, set
a drum-like clip in, get
it cocked, then shoot lead around his silhouette
till the clip has zero ammunition left
seems like this once co[ɑ]cky piece of dreck
has gotten his khaki chinos wet
but if I've go[ɑ]t him in a sweat
like a summer jo[ɑ]gger being dressed
in venthole-deficient threads
for this brash dude, there's bad news
like me when I write some sick bloodshed
sadly for him, I've not finished yet (uh-uh)
like a runner that's go[ɑ]t some distance left
to complete, & it's not as dark as things can get
'cause, like the heroine o[ʌ]f M. Streep in "Death
Becomes Her" after falling fro[ʌ]m that string of steps
I've got a somewhat twisted head
[Madeline Ashton; the staircase fall scene]
so consider this as an insult-to-inju[—]ry sesh
grab a brace of scissors
for garden mainte[—]nance; Richard
Trager comes into play; begin ta
amputate his fingers; operate at leisure
disarticulate 'em I̲nto twenty eight **** pieces
cauterizing the remains with illuminated cI̲gars
fling into his piggish face some tissues
and some pain relievers
tell this nazissistic patient "hE̲A̲l up"
["****" in the sense of being "severely intolerant or dictatorial"]
let him relax for eighteen minutes
over the spa[ɛ]n of whI̲ch I put on play "La Chica
Rockabilly" & some other ro[ɑ]ckabilly
jams to make the whole vibe a mite less grisly
like an NA brown bear that is gravely injured
["mightless grizzly"; North American]
(as, in fact, this tragic-fated bleeder)
whereafter spray him with a
["wither"]
can of gas & make his dicta—
—torial a## go ablaze akin ta
a straw-fabricated figure
during gala days at the late of winter
[Maslenitsa effigy]
telling this piece of trash "in case you wI̲[ɪ]nd up
in somewhat of Hades, give a
warm shalom to the infamous ******"
consider this autocratic ****
a sugar daddy's skirt
'cause he's gotten what he was asking for
————————————————————————————————
oh, & one thing more to say: the
nullified, like ruler's presiding terms, dictator
was known among some as "toilet sprayer"
like a scuttered urinator

with disciplined guilt
i can spill a kind of pornographic hemorrhage
                   provoking a spell into the mind
                        deluge
                      a spiel
so many illicit thoughts to priss a label on
             laxed into this state
              i imagine my punishments
               received in swollen glory
and   in turn   for this ungated imagination
                         i may earn further punishment
(no glory / dunce / head hung)

skirting dirt for promise
opening the aperture to the wild dark woods
    and beyond natures primal propeller
seeking out opportunities for submission
  under a church weight
          of my own mined and kinkled cranium

Each word I exchanged with you,
each one of them is raining down on me
like falling stars.

The sky I looked at alone,
seemed like it was about to swallow me up.
I was afraid.

The starry night we shared was incredibly brilliant,
it somehow seemed unstable.

A single petal that came in my life.
Only you mattered.

This is my punishment.