Blackened Soul
Letemdangle
Published
05/08/2012
Like twisted baited worms,
who's flesh is impaled with hard wire turnings.
I take the cold diseased heart from rotted corpses
and feed it into the mouths
of bitches with engorged vagina yearnings.
The reckless sanctimonious righteous
evaporate from the earth
and like an undetected steam
burn the faces of those
who are too blind to see.
Transcended evil scum
swirl the paths of souls
as they try to make their way
deep into the psyche.
Never a power to be,
man trapped by his own arrogance,
by his own greed,
instead of infiltrating the cosmic mind of God,
crushes his flesh,
crushes his spirit.
Dare not be the one to hold the mirror,
take sticks for script,
land scribbles in the sand
as to expose your soul for wretched redistribution.
Deity and piety hold tight
like gravitational glue
on every thought conceived by mortal man,
In giant prisons they are locked for eternity
and hold the secrets yet untold.
No man is great,
who feeds on the flesh of others,
for essential nutrients flow
and percolate into our mother.
There is a flesh that feeds the soul,
it is impossible to find and
therefore does not exist.
There is a thought,
a spoken word,
a transcribed verse
that makes it so,
but man will damn it all to hell.
who's flesh is impaled with hard wire turnings.
I take the cold diseased heart from rotted corpses
and feed it into the mouths
of bitches with engorged vagina yearnings.
The reckless sanctimonious righteous
evaporate from the earth
and like an undetected steam
burn the faces of those
who are too blind to see.
Transcended evil scum
swirl the paths of souls
as they try to make their way
deep into the psyche.
Never a power to be,
man trapped by his own arrogance,
by his own greed,
instead of infiltrating the cosmic mind of God,
crushes his flesh,
crushes his spirit.
Dare not be the one to hold the mirror,
take sticks for script,
land scribbles in the sand
as to expose your soul for wretched redistribution.
Deity and piety hold tight
like gravitational glue
on every thought conceived by mortal man,
In giant prisons they are locked for eternity
and hold the secrets yet untold.
No man is great,
who feeds on the flesh of others,
for essential nutrients flow
and percolate into our mother.
There is a flesh that feeds the soul,
it is impossible to find and
therefore does not exist.
There is a thought,
a spoken word,
a transcribed verse
that makes it so,
but man will damn it all to hell.
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