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For us on the beach,
Outside the gates of "Troy,"
We called ourselves Vulcan.

And they tried to steal our identity!
Us! The Gardeners!

That's what they wrote the Torah around,
For they stole our children.

They put them on an island;
Pleasure Island, Toyland.

They bought and they sold them,
Used them & abused them.

I have rebuilt what was destroyed.
I have restored what was corrupted.
I have returned an elusive wisdom.
Because the Abra"ham"ic books were originally put together by pedophiles & cannibals. Using intellectuals they coerced or abducted to write the texts. But the Jewish people were wise and exiled them. Then they had the same family of intellectuals put together the "test"aments, to see if they could get things back on track in their "directions."
Then they immigrated to Rome and help start the "glad""i""at""or" fights, so there was a fresh supply of each. Lots of double speak, either gay or faggotry. Gay - Happy. Faggotry - you should be fuel for a pyre.
Hate that they made that word homophobic.
Or
If we're all just going to be extremists now and accept such disgusting states of the world, then who cares what I say. Isn't it more important what we do? Or what has been done?
Yet, it's not as though I lived it. There's no certain expressed belief of the subject matter on my part.
I guess I'm just another blind, hateful person shooting in the dark. ;3
What's the real moral of the story?
Why was Odysseus sent on that journey?
Like the horse which was used,
Like the dog he let die.
He hid his face
And led those he cared for astray.
Like men who ****** in the night,
Shapeless forces cursed them
Yet, light did not betray their sight.

He may have been a leader,
But he was only the bravest coward.

When he returned home
Life had long moved on,
For he was scarcely recognized.
Such are the ways like of the soldier,
Not far from the warrior-
These lifestyles where peace is deprived.

Where one couple's love
Is the scandalous affair,
Where one couple's love
Is firmly consecrated.

Why these are such matters
To go to war & die for,
Why these are such matters
To go to battle & **** over;

They're well & truly not.

Individual rights are young,
But even so
They are ancient.
Older than the Kings & God(s)?
Who Here Isn't Consenting?!

Us versus Them?

We versus You. You are pretending!
Truth hides in Ignorance,
Truth is Wisdom.

I love you.

Virtue hides in Arrogance,
Wisdom is Virtue.

I honor you.

For together we birth them!
From mental to physical!

Immaterial!
******? Inter-breeding?
Disgusting interpretations!

Cannibalism? All types of sick rituals?
Disgusting interpretations!

*******? All kinds of sick sacrifices?
Disgusting interpretations!

In more ways than one.

With love. Take care of them.
Raise them, lift them.

Eat with them. Make it a normal habit.
Feed them, look out for those after them.

Find the young. Whoever most curious.
Offer shelter, by statue place visage.
We who made a champion a companion!
We who found in the Horse a champion!

The Ancient Vulcans!

We who brought forth Fire.
We who found in the other animals Identity.
Honor your ancestors, yes?
But some take that to extremes.
Even going so far
As to apply it to themselves,
In the physical sense & mental.
That being the oldest of them,
Instinct & emotion.

For to them the mind is wasted,
For them the body is nothing.
For them the mind is nothing,
For to the body of it is wasted.

In the sense that they are anymore
Man than any other kind of animal,
A concept so tiringly clung to.
So thoroughly discussed is mankind
That its philosophies are disgusting,
Unrecognizably distorted.
Those in actuality & reality,
Cloaked by sick games of telephone.

For to honor pridefulness,
For to shame modesty.
For from pride is derived honor,
For from shame is made modest.

If by death die the lies,
Then execution is the only honesty.
Then dying is the truest mercy.

For therein, what is just?

If in the journey of life
We have neglected to have collected
That of the mind;
If in the path of destiny
We have stalled not to have gathered
That of the soul:
To have connection to nothing,
Free from attachment,
But not to have been liberated.

For three are the siblings.

Yet, thee are siblings;
How shamefully you treat family,
How scornful you are of relatives.
Friends? No!
Acquaintances? Not!
Neighbors? Get lost!
What fields you salt
With crops you allow rot,
Clipping the stems of the spoiled
And smashing in the ripened.

Countless leaves of these branches.
Think it's political, but it's really spiritual;
Think it's spiritual, but it's really political.
Culture like a series of judgements & verdicts.

I quite like the concept Moirai.

If it isn't one thing, it's another!
In the boastful, casual manner you portray,
You betray your actual lack of ruthlessness.

The act is a fun game,
But the consequences are heavy.

If no one buys what you're selling,
Suffice to say you're starving.
If it causes greater harm or grief,
Suffice to say you're swinging.

For others yet are playing,
But play not.

For behind many faces hide wide smiles,
By many frames are different the pictures.
For the floors all are dusted.

Be ruthless in gentleness & kindness.
I feel that the light is shining on all of us,
Here today,
That are of this generation.
Without thought for creed or nation,
Dispensation or convictions.
I feel in the air
A breeze of change
From the winds of truth.
I hear the chimes
Of a pur of gust on chords
From a pale vision given color.

I see concern in the face of my brothers,
I discern a scent staining my sisters.

That they are not treated as fathers,
That they are not treated as mothers;
That they are less person & more chattel.

Whatever your chosen identity.

And even so, despite conjecture
The majority feel as such,
That line of a nation
Is one without factions.
And yet, by the party system,
That lie of a nation
Is one where we are equals.
Because in being separate
We are not different,
Not in this way.
For we are conjoined
And yet disjointed;
Debating becomes like arguing,
Disagreeing becomes like fighting.

My friends, what are we doing?
Is it not yet evident
That without the cooperation,
Consent,
And participation
By the majority of the populace
That it is impossible for us to attain real order?
Outside of seditious and nefarious plans
For power grabs of total control,
Which will all reliably fail,
There are solutions.
Nothing so final
As the extremist comics,
Often pessimists or nihilists,
So salivate and dream over.
And nothing so care-free
As some sadists or hedonists,
Often pessimists or nihilists,
So swoon and fall for.
Yet nor too meek or rigid
As some fanatics or magicians,
Often pessimists or nihilists,
So worship and practice ritual.
No. We will be democratic
With a government
Who hears of all
That plagues & plights;
By little & tall,
Small & large.
We will have a middle,
Common ground
Where we may all be impartial.
That place we shall call,
Columbia.
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