With uncertainty I ink my final thoughts on unlit blocks
N***as caught on heron nods
Still at odds with false gods of archaic age
Angelic face wretched with pain ignites my flame
Your mundane daily life amazes me, such complacency
Tattered city once brimming with life now sits abandoned
Some feel these thoughts too random
I hand them their empty heads as main course to DaVinci's Last Supper
As they sit and wonder
Abundant sun pours over old steel and bricks
Filling my aching eyes till they split
I felt my earth shift, contort, and twist
Lift heavy brow to view what happened to my tiny corner of dirt
Worthless soul too old to care
As despair builds thick amongst my people
From burnt steeples hear distant toll of bells
Ancient tongue swells as one lumbers with prenatal language
Manage a coarse throaty mumble to convey how this earth crumbles
I tumble, close to where I've been a million times before
Free to ignore pain which pounds at human temples
I resemble less of a man and more the dirt I tread on, the truth I fed on


To my trampled brethren
Heaven won't accept you
Either you or it don't exist
Consider that a gift
As we walk through that mist filled valley
Vulnerable souls tell tales of ill proportions
Scorching rise soothing moon, soon to dim
My travels at an end, light bends to dark
Jagged crossed sticks manhandled as scripture and art
Picture your Christ as blond and blue eyed
As mine resides within confines of empty glass bottles
Robbed of youth I wobble past society and rest my head on curb of reality
If only for a nap
To grasp for that which we lack
Remain trapped in these three dimensions
Mention I once stepped past, now viewed as insane
Trained human pets scurry to cubicals for food pellets
Next funeral for those who think cause thoughts are relics
I smell this viscous odor on each face I meet
Seems humanity reached peak in 20th century
My jaded eye strains to see through a smoke-filled room
Consumed by books which speak of our past
At last begin to piece together our beginnings
With few fleeting seconds 'til our end
Quickly cross that bridge, you bum
See what's on the other shore
It's lure magnetic in our drunken minds
Poor feeble shell hoping for so much more
Left entranced by ancient dance of emptiness
Few are the blessed who feed on truth's breast