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This is where the Nihilist livesThis is where the Nihilist lives
Just a stick on a tree
Just a rock in a hole
Just a heart that makes you live
Not a purpose to fulfill
Is there reason?Is there really?
Actually I don't.
I'll let you ponder
While you fire and promote.
If I told you the truth I'd be lying.
Wouldn't you like that?
I knew you would.
Now run along and find a job.
You're worthless without it, slob.
Money is everything you know,
and a house, and a spouse
and a little cage with a mouse
For your children.
You need to get you some of those.
'Cause that's what life is.
I knew you'd agree.
Hey,want to come shopping with me?
You need that phone, and that!And that big T.V
While you're at it how 'bout that flashy S.U.V?
And that coat, salmon is the new black!
Quick!Go home!Clear all that old stuff out, if you wear it you look whack.
Oh don't drink that,you'll have a heart attack!
But it tastes so good?
Then it's fine then.
I'll have them write something nice on your grave
You know, stuff that w
The Auctioneer'Good evening gents and ladies
screaming hungry babies
On the table for the bidding tonight
A fine second hand soul!'
'All parts have been restored
To almost all its former glory
But these cracks all bare a story
You must buy to hear it told'
'Start this auction shall we?
A reserve price of one life
Do I hear one life in exchange
For this fine second hand soul?'
'One life!' says the paddle
In the raised hand of a devil
Sitting placidly suspended
In the middle second row
'Do I hear two lives?
Two lives for the taking
Of this restored soul once a breaking
Two lives in exchange for this fine second hand soul?'
'Two lives!' granted the pale bright man
With a weak weathered outstretched hand
Two lives bid in exchange
Though the fine piece isn't whole
'Do I hear three lives?
Three lives surely a fair price
To offer for this fine piece proffered
This piece on the table surely for three lives will be sold?'
Chiaroscuro ReverieEmerge like a penumbra
Illuminated, only the contour of your cheek
an evanescent air of ethereal aura
swiftly alights like a bird first to take wing,
a vision of ambrosial mortality.
were I to search for you
after a dalliance with your glance, chatoyant.
I wouldn't find a scintilla,
Not a breath, merely a whisp of memory
a picture of emeralds and melody
a diaphanous web imagined you to be
Dulcet crimson moistened lips
The heart of every hardened mans' chorus
a reverie or lyrical elixir
To smooth the calloused , the jagged,
the jaded core.
The painterly brush of deity must be, must have
erstwhile spied a sunset
and for his own mantel created this felicitous gossamer spirit,
a holy pastiche to grace his vision evermore.
Were a harbinger to imbue
with promise of your visage
Once more to impart that lilt to now a quavering stutter
In the depths of the dark
a mellifluous cure
To my persistent inure
On my knees to the silent gods I'd mutt
Bundled like a gift
Last burden I, the weight of my vessel
Bares down on the backs of my loved ones
They will carry me up the mountain
And ask nothing in return
As I've carried my own beloved before them
They will thank the birds for who I was
And return to them the flesh I once believed I owned
The messengers crowd eagerly
A knife to expose what was life
Broken bones to end my tale
Bloodied stones, crimson painted payment of alms
Pieces of the vase stripped to strengthen their wing
For the journey skyward of my being
Pound to dust what was once dust again
The breeze will carry me up, nurture the grain
Sun annointed to feed
My next vessel
Now gone, the birds ask for rain.
Southern modernizationBlack comedy market economy, banana peel political humour, cards with the cartels, the solution free room service and credit the union. Bolivar twist, ding dong dollar under control, valley of the coin desert with no value. Gangsta paradise, the victims are the people. Big mac and cold conflict interference a part of it all. In little Mexico you’d need a high horse to jump the great border wall that boasts its peak.
Viracocha melts waters unlike those it rose from, making waves of out of metal oceans to overtake the current south, re-steel, re-take, tech-mechs the entire south into neo-Machu Picchu, cyberpunk music moulding, reshaping old society into an new age, iron dynasty, fresh coat for an old, ancient look. The coattails of Quetzalcoatl if he were a modern man pull together the merge of future and long passed past..techno temples and the like.
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