Thursday, January 12, 2012

page 57

different parts of the world and are building their own little war machines some call their machine justice some call their machine freedom some call their machine love but they are all war machines they were built for only one purpose and that is to destroy there is no in between for these war makers they have a blood debt that must be paid somewhere in another life they must have been real bad to do so much evil in this life they are trapped in a downward spiral they are committed to misunderstanding they are the naked man who doesn’t know he is naked they speak to words of fools they can’t walk by themselves they need others to hold them up they need others to kill for them they can do only what they can do and all of their words are lies and they destroy the world with a twisted love they will kill you and say they did so out of love they say they kill you so that you might live they say we are all equal in death they steal from you and you don’t know it because you are too busy bleeding in your grave they are only happy when you are dying they need to suppress their ambitions they need to take their finger off the trigger they need to stop building these war machines it is wrong to call your war machine democracy it is wrong to call your war machine truth why don’t your tell the truth and call your war machine money confess your sins to your brothers and sisters tell them you have sacrificed their sons and daughter for the almighty dollar tell them that it was power that blinded your eyes tell them that chaos is your friend that death sits at your table and drinks wine with you together you plan your fits of violence you hold a monopoly on the threats of violence you are so busy trying to die you have been accepted into the brotherhood of murder you live and you will die like a murderer I would be ashamed to live in your shoes to see the bloodshed that you have brought into others lives I guess your ignorance helps you sleep at night entering into the unknown space the abysmal plane where your existence is becomes the bone of sacrifice falling forward but living a backwards life a joke of an existence scripting out your gothic life you live according to the dictates of a demented mind you roll the dice and move your armies we will invade Kabul today we will kill some more for jesus he is always thirsty for more blood such a violent and blood thirsty god rubbing his shoulder blades calling others to their graves it is nighttime music he sings to the moon jugs of rubbing alcohol stacked against a pile of heavy words cobwebs and flecks of paint they are your concepts of romanticism you are out there on the road waving your flag jumping up and down trying to get someone’s attention god help them if they stop to give you help they don’t know that you are hollow inside and that their journey will soon end you have tied them up into a French dream the picture in your mind is black and white there is no feeling in your toes you have set your victims on the side of the road you saw this as a competition between you and the devil the winner gets to eat the French fried potatoes shocked by the half opened bodies you never used to leave things unfinished your contortions with the devil have left you lazy you no longer care about the crime scene there is no more spit and polish in your technique and method you have erased all of the formal introductions leo kills of the fun of it and I am not like you I will not live beneath the water I will not hide from the sunshine I won’t play that

No comments:

Post a Comment