we are the flare
Posted: 19 Feb 2021 04:38
a shot in the dark, a shift of the wind, a new and old spark in the wind
we saw the world churn by slowly crafting its own demise of lies, we hold our hopes and prayers, in this dark are they the torch or snare?
are we men for refusing to live stagnate in sin, violently tossed, a spiral of rape and rend? we all see satan and savior in we. Transgression is transgression but theres difference in degrees. By their decree we are not deserving to be set free, perhaps they fear what we may see, that we may see the streams for the sea and the sea for the streams, the tree for the forest and the forest as a tree.
a dark army laces their boots and arms their inhuman machines that they call the path of we, and absolution of thee.
angels and workers hold fast to that horizon. tentacles of malice reach far and wide covering the structure of light, like mold grows on old wood.
fallen lights, twinkling bright, lighting little fires making the world fright. dark demons, vultures on our world and spirit both of them whisper the same message and pattern and make us hear it. know thy enemy and thyself and build your latter up a few shelves.
old ones stir in their sleep, sending ripples, perhaps theyd like again to meet. the star wink back at the stage being prepared and set, even at the creatures on the rafters and behind the guests. some remembers their old lives, of past children and wives, the sensation of family done right, will always shine the brightest light. Some young souls, not yet knowing the world of old, awaken with friend and foe. shoulder to shoulder, same boat rocking to and fro.
its not very often you see the planet in all her majesty with a tinge of anxiety. she does after all house the magma and seas what is it she sees?
beings, with no regard to you or me, already walk these streets, what would you make of a being, inhabiting the same neighborhood as the luminaries, with even less regard to humanity.
as sides and flags swell with willing wanders and participants, agendas that claim to mend us, some for the explicit purpose of ending us, some for all of the raping and rending of us, some for absolutely none.
then theres some who spoke a different tongue, knowing the one, just here to have fun. we are here, we hear, something on the horizon but drawing near, the womb of the realm sheds a tear, the father has no fear, we are not your cogs or gears, but the undoing of the damned design and the path out of the dark years. Humanity incarnate is the flare
we saw the world churn by slowly crafting its own demise of lies, we hold our hopes and prayers, in this dark are they the torch or snare?
are we men for refusing to live stagnate in sin, violently tossed, a spiral of rape and rend? we all see satan and savior in we. Transgression is transgression but theres difference in degrees. By their decree we are not deserving to be set free, perhaps they fear what we may see, that we may see the streams for the sea and the sea for the streams, the tree for the forest and the forest as a tree.
a dark army laces their boots and arms their inhuman machines that they call the path of we, and absolution of thee.
angels and workers hold fast to that horizon. tentacles of malice reach far and wide covering the structure of light, like mold grows on old wood.
fallen lights, twinkling bright, lighting little fires making the world fright. dark demons, vultures on our world and spirit both of them whisper the same message and pattern and make us hear it. know thy enemy and thyself and build your latter up a few shelves.
old ones stir in their sleep, sending ripples, perhaps theyd like again to meet. the star wink back at the stage being prepared and set, even at the creatures on the rafters and behind the guests. some remembers their old lives, of past children and wives, the sensation of family done right, will always shine the brightest light. Some young souls, not yet knowing the world of old, awaken with friend and foe. shoulder to shoulder, same boat rocking to and fro.
its not very often you see the planet in all her majesty with a tinge of anxiety. she does after all house the magma and seas what is it she sees?
beings, with no regard to you or me, already walk these streets, what would you make of a being, inhabiting the same neighborhood as the luminaries, with even less regard to humanity.
as sides and flags swell with willing wanders and participants, agendas that claim to mend us, some for the explicit purpose of ending us, some for all of the raping and rending of us, some for absolutely none.
then theres some who spoke a different tongue, knowing the one, just here to have fun. we are here, we hear, something on the horizon but drawing near, the womb of the realm sheds a tear, the father has no fear, we are not your cogs or gears, but the undoing of the damned design and the path out of the dark years. Humanity incarnate is the flare