Alas! (Broke Black Prophet) August, 2020

Pop a pill to kill the ills; trying to alleviate the pain that gains, every second, every day. Pray until your knees are sullied and raw. Paw and scrape to try to survive this fated plight of life, ill perceived light that has dulled and dimmed over time. Crimes happening every millisecond. Tons of excuses become the ruse to the obtuse to the Holy Triangle. Strangle yourself with a noose never being cut loose, being cut down to rest with the pests, the rests of us confessed still judged not blessed. But, I am intrepid when the wind finally comes from the west. Armageddon being the absolute test. I’ll pass and you’ll be lying right next to me, on the ground; as my physical soul burns and I look around, with a smirk because we all had to feel this icy inferno fury. We all caused this horrible natural catastrophe; this wave of hell, this Tsunami of fire…now washing over our bodies.