Disown !

...fuck the sweeten blood ties, I am bred like the wolves and the rats, and I am bred for war. fuck the self righteous old sags, thou hath not half the honour thy splatter with thy sick saliva slime. fuck thy seniority and self imposed authority. I have no respect for it. fuck the promise of a right life, I am bred in perversion and pain and anger scream thru the nights in my dreams for years that you fear to hear. I am getting ready. Are you?

disown an aching limb

your eyes do see, just your ability see not
ears don't hear, for true is not it's lang..
mouth doth speak, trust abused favored lies
advocate, you are the best of lies disguised!!

words not yours, so copied and steal
ideas stale, those you think you claimed as own?
so to where is this "seek" ?
that you so beautifully preach?
whose is this "we"?
that you would with it will find a day?
you war your own , bite the hand that feeds..
but shame true not your way, for as proved you are still inner-ly fray.
when all has cometh two as one, you married your bride..
sex and die with her, a wooden fetish called pride.
You drive those out, you fail to down,
You hate those whom betters you,
while you preach contradictions, truth weightless ounces
and frame them so with dishonor ly crowns..


fools are you whom not learn , unlearn and relearn
fools are ones with eyes blind not but mind clots
fools are the silly ones, whom degrades it's own unfulfilled desires..
fools are you, one whom speaks alone, am watched and mocked.
fools are you, encrypted, self made vice dons the chores of nothings petty piles,
fools are you so self claimed Michael's.... damn you to the fallens!!!
and serve me well "the accuser" legions in numbers, wealthy in strength, cometh forth and bask the glory, trample on with thy cloven hoofs.

He is enemy to ye that speak truth through hideous plights,
He is but nothing of the earth, space and water ,
He is the vermin that depicts the very shame of the whores whom he fail to laid,
He is that disgrace which he buries his failures with despise and hate,
He is the masquerade that speaks honey words to flowers between legs
He is my disgust, and equals the rest to like past
He is the inferior predator, on the child bearers he forces himself.
He is the intoxicate, that dos your mind in the name to educate.
He is not the "no one." for disgraceful if an association.


no gift is this that sprout from the very of disease,
of that, of course, of so thee wish ..a fantasy so pungent that thou so reek
cause stand nil of a virtue , thee holds such
poor the ignorant , little and un-humble types.
oh wait oh wait, whom speaks of disguised?
of who did entice lies and lies enticed did who?
Of that agreed, that it did twitched ,
in ye conscience clear and unlike thee.
of nothing they utter.. the lost gone ones,
of nothing they are , ... nothing sustained.


cometh forth sire , whom thy name is whispered

that is eagerness, the unwaitable urge of an underage, like the lust for
it's rainbow colored cherry pie,
that is a cover, like shield , the babies hide under sheets,
that is not nature, oh please spare mother earth from your daily sprouting
of pus.
that is not passion, for haven’t you heard this ; " why the impatience for
an eternal gloat ?"
that is not enlightenment, and nothing of that great for didn't you say "
if one would preach like god, fools would the one who fall ."
that is true the not learnt yet you part.
that is not about controlling the heart, but excuses for the inability to
think and reflect.
that is not words, not words mean for a fallen, a truly fallen.
this is a wait, a wait for admittance.
this is imperfection.
this is me
this I admit.


....is lust your root?
or the lying mask beneath your pretentious hood?
is pride your food?
or the organic pleasure of stolen stories' loot?
is denial your art?
or lowly mistake to stinking excuses of pride un-part?
is betrayal from years?
or is that an illusion of a ghostly mail?
is trust your prey?
or the innocent's heart and the fragile fray?
Is preaching your way?
or those are but words with flowering haze?
so indulgence's your strut?
that excuses the severe of your ways destruct?
is repentance de rigueur?
or so the whip spared the kid?
is practice in your preach?
or your deluding warmth is your perfected ditch?
does forgiveness matters?
years, pride and solitude is utter…

need no insanity to mask my in-confidence.

so now fame’s your search?
Not the rubbish talk of passion’s urge?
You twist your words?
Like titanic storm and typhoon’s worst..
But yours is not..
But the tiny storm of a disturbed cup..
Not worth are pies?
The worthless is you , and your ego piles.
So the mask you deny?
Must be the lust of a ghost , that caught my eyes..
So shout you now, OH!!!…innocent..
And claim sympathy of a wrongly burnt?
Displeased expressed?
Ha! nah.. , just words to ring when you are in your desolate urn.
Hey aren’t you’ve been wronged?
Why now the hope of new born flesh?
What use is new, when old is good?
What good is flesh when heart’s just ash.?


Nope. * tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock ,,,tick tock….*


Speak not , link not, of sowing the dones
When it’s the ploying plans is it’s magical wand
Oh pain is, hurt is, in seeing the one,
The hiding of yearning, in your musical barn
Take in, pick up , the any of one..
for the cover of lost, is by a fitfully hunt..
oh, too much , too great in the coming of freeze?
And now you are at it, again, doing the twist..
Ha!, scalded did, burnt did, but of whose are the limbs.?
Stopping screaming the dream of the conniving scheme
Act not , betray not, but of rage and of lost..??
Then it’s a sad of your age, still not knowing your course..
Whip should , tear should, by the rights of .. ..war.
When punishment descends, we’ll observe more…
oh no, oh no, not another stolen did??!!
that’s a line …going same hearts beats..
better not, matter not, but who’s in pain?
but the alone some squat, with the heart so faint.
Hope on, hope on, with your spirit of cain,
When your ego’s thaw? for time’s all drained.
laugh yes, laugh yes, all others may..
in pairs if they prayed, and into their heavenly days.
so do so do, the sad of a “truth”?
the alone of pride, a bitter ul sight.

my rage that will not die over 20 years, will yours bind?