There’s never enough stuff.
Fluff amid the scruff. Puff the
magic dragon hanging on another strong song of enlightenment sent to another
fellow who has never been mellow.
But
that’s more than okay in these last days of necrosis; an abhorrent hypnosis
being carried out by the so called devout various religious sects gone
unisex: man or woman does not matter in
this suffering domain gone totally insane.
Spraying chemical trails in the heavens to create all the sevens to
equal elevens.
Breaking even, is not, believing. You have to go all in, in this land of pious and
in this land of sin. Oh, I wish for the
freedom of non-serfdom; being slaves again soon.
But I will not go out like a trick; pandered and patted
down, relinquishing my last dollar without an horrible fight so quick. Nooooo!
My soul’s way too bright!
I’ll
look up at the Heavens and holler, getting ready to die but killing a lot of
those mother fuckers before I get judged by my blessed Maker, my second Father. And I’ll be just fine, all fucking right! Oh, my Sweet Sistahs and Brothahs, it's going to be a Beautiful sight!
