As your idols gods demons and archetypes fall
A logos is arisen to fine tune divine precision
Day dawns splintering fractured light on inching dew
Who is so bold to proclaim the era of new
Your entire life's construction made by another mans ambition and instruction
Who am i to play pans flute with the harshness of percussion
A butterflys rippling repercussion all of it was a game to prepare you for one discussion
The world is yours. Your passage here or there a simple tour.
Yearn to know more, to experience thy glory evermore
For all are sand lost to the times of father and man. You may even know the all parent and not thy own guiding hand
A pawn for play keeps the inevitable away. Every dog has its day. Every king meets its check and mate.
We could always have lovely and vile things to say all day man after all a manifold creation as sun is to day and as the moon helps you choose.
A balanced calculated metronome of who is who and how to get a clue. Would you even ever know if your own self withdrew?
The sound and nature of a bifold man constructed and contracted via a spirits master plan. Who is even a master without family behind them in the rafters.
Aeons aeons ago wars come ago. Now we learn what constructs and instructs a mans beast spirit and ego.
It was not on darwins galapagos that man was known. It was nor jungs creator and his spirit fun.
It was always you. The creation who chooses. Who decides who wins or loses. He who winds and cures the blind and still weeps wines creeps and guzzles wine.
The blood of the earth will have her symphony in tribe
Your cries fuel my machine till death dies
Poetry
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