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Andrew Wenson Nov 2014
Feet stewed in their own sweat
lubricated grit under nails
paid to meditate and eat TV
Oh what froth there is
in a pyramid!
janitor life
You will
always be
on top of the
pyramid. No one
will never ever sit on your
throne. All the glory is Yours
All songs of praise are Yours and
All honor and worship are given to You
May the praise of God be in their mouths and a double-edged sword in their hands
Psalm 149:6
Nicholas Kurtz Apr 2014
Fly through my
Time, lies, lame and blind
My poems are of rapid thunder
This breathes life from the pyramids taking one from Babylon’s throne
Black, morning, loneliness, incomplete for all I know Death
Might just feel like home, thoughts, rapid, cease
Nothingness, black what the Pyramids draw
That mans fleeting time, lie, unforgiven
We’re not alone but linked within
Time, drawn in the sand
In this time I feel so alone

Maybe death feels like home?
Maybe death feels like home?

And consciousness lies
To man a lullaby
To serenade his fleeting life
Mortal souls, we die alone
Maybe death feels like home?
Maybe nothingness, bliss
Can you imagine how it’s to not exist?
Like do you remember before you were born?
Nestled in the universes womb
But woman have what man can’t get alone
Before it was written on the throne
Before man was
Taken from his rib
Before she fell to the sin
Really like this one :)

— The End —