State your price

I hear the cock crowing
The dogs barking
Bird song
Washing.
Flapping on the line

Bamboo bees chewing

Nothing’s wrong…..

As that sense perceives
The hustle and bustle of normal life

Cicadas beginning

What will become a cacophony of white noise
All of the boys
Calling

This listening sense ignoring
The continuous
Bombing

Noiseless, invisible, atomically indivisible
No scent
Indecent
Microscopically incandescent
Sly and maleficent

Make no error
This is terror-
Ism
isn’t it?

Then think of the mind that went through the grind of making this shit from the pit. Think of the human so lost in illusion that for a pension can stifle our ascension and think what is bad is good.

And so sacrifice their children on the altar of satan for a lifestyle.

Deathstyle.

For numbers in a computer
For fiction without substance
And what it can buy
From the deluded
Who will, all of them, die

Let me be hard bitten
For so it is written
You begin unknowing

And end.

In between there’s bowing
And scraping
And seemingly nothing
You can do.

Except hold my hand
Figuratively
By which I mean

Hold every.

And it is in this space-time that you follow your lifeline and cling to it for all your worth as if it is all you have, when all you have is limitless hidden from you by duress and stress and strain but you will live again and repeat your mistake not realising what’s at stake.

What’s on the table to be gambled
Is not your blood
Is Not your pain
Is Not your life
Is Not your comfort
Is Not your peace of mind
Is Not your valueless reputation
Is Not what others will say
Is Not what someone will pay

What’s on the table is your soul

Now.
State your price.