V: Silence

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I can feel the Silence, the Silence from a distance,

The sound of a word misunderstood and

Never to be read again.

The sound of words without pages, dancing

In freedom, liberty and freedom underground;

It’s calming and pure and gracious

Down in the dryness of nature inhaling

Deeply the unfiltered air of dirt and shelter.

The sound of a storm that will never cease and

The Silence that accompanies it, so

Devoted to the cause and the law and the law and the Lawless.

The sound of the hammer crashing down

And breaking the ruins of heroism, forging

Blades to cut through crime and whatever is

Left for the heroes to fend off in Silence.

The sound of a merciless army stuck in

Rewind and time immemorial forgetting it

Ever even existed to begin with, when the

Law the law the law the law the furious law struck first.

The sound of a failed experiment, the

Blood of a thousand warriors seeping out

Into the streets, into the churches, into the

Monuments that they once tried to

Tear from their high seats,

The plans of science they tried to stop.

In plain sight to the eyes of a stranger rests a

Bloody mess seeking redemption

And finding only oblivion, somewhere

Between heaven and hell, but not

Purgatory or perdition or the underworld,

Somewhere else where the heroes

Are renowned, respected, and loved

For their sacrifices to the Silence.

To the Silence…

To the Silence…

A tear is nothing to a knight in armor,

A man a hero a Lawless man,

But to a simple man, a tear is known

For supporting and appreciating the

Silence

Of millions of dead Lawless fighters on the

Eve of their birthdays, of their wives’ and

Husbands’ birthdays when their families

Would have loved to have seen them,

The last time they would have seen them

Without having Fury Fury Fury Fury but now

Silence

For the billions left to suffer in a world

Without sacrifice, without rebellion or

Death or death or death or Lawless men and only

Silence

For the billions left to suffer in undeath,

Brought into law and supported by law

And still a law and forever a law

While no one’s there to say a word except

To plead for Mercy, for Mercy, for Mercy,

Silence

To the trillions of bodies sunken in the soil

Seeking solace among each other

Over time, over all the time of the world

Left to rot and sink further down to the core in

Silence

And the next billion birthed and stuck in

Endless cycles, endless immortalities, and

Having no choice but to take the injection and to

Cry for days through unimaginable pain, and

Unimaginable consequences from living without

An expiration date, a death notice, an obituary, or a choice

Silence

And the candle-light flickers still for the dead ones,

But shrouds and lathers itself in dirt and soil and

Buries the remainder of its flame, delivering it to

The earth it once loved and still loves today,

It makes itself nice and cozy among the chaos

And closes its eyes while dreaming of eternal

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

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III: Unjust

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Its the blind leading the blind these days for

The education system is so uneducated,

Hiding crucial information of the times to come,

Telling lies, acting contrived and Unjust;

The government sanctioning true freedom of thought and expression

With propaganda, the subscription to a

Free service that Doubles-back like a loan

And returns to us as a

Boomerang would if it had legs and a

Greedy and Unjust perception of informing the public

Of the disasters bound to come;

It pulls at our brains and dangles it in the distance like a

Carrot on a stick to a starving farm animal,

Which can only run as fast as it

Wishes to suffer in the end, like

Swimming against the current while

Enjoying every minute of going nowhere;

Why have the educators neglected the truth

Lurking across the horizon,

The war that the Lawless are fighting against the Unjust,

The war that the Unjust are bound to lose in the end,

For karma dictates the world as we know it.

And Fury possesses the lawless the lawless the merciless

And Fury possesses only those capable of harnessing it.

Praise the gods in the sky for their deeds

And pray on your hands and knees for

The Unjust to die mercilessly in the bonfire that

They have stoked in the middle of the Amazon.

An absurd amount of money as a bounty,

It will hook and bait its line upon the hunters,

The Lawless god-hunters and the dead ones

Banding together down the river into the woods,

Swarming and flanking the merciless fire-builders

And destroying their hopes and lights.

How Unjust must this system become before

Plummeting into insanity?

Does the armor you clad yourself in

Weigh you down inside your lake of a mindless mind?

Unjust politics fighting and mindlessly searching

Through the sea and the desert for food,

In a battle for supremacy where the Fury is building.

Unjust thinking,

Unjust living,

Unjust Unjust Unjust death forcing war.

The death of a beloved one, how Unjust is that?

II: Lawless

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the law is dead and lawless for no law regulates itself beyond the will of the    Kings

violent and aggressive and reprehensible they claim about the execution of a religion,    As

angels fly from the eight rings of purgatory downward and upward at the    Sinners,

empowering the law and its long arm of justice, its hammer   Fighting,

Divine.

the lawful are suffering in blind obedience and the confusion wrought    Through

the madness, the arguments, the instruments of torture beyond the public    Realms,

and civic rule mirroring the death and endless craziness abound through    Chapels

of executions, toy bears, plastic violins creating sounds and screams    Of

Mercy.

the lawless, the lawless, the lawless, the relentless lawless, the merciless    Lawful

and down the road they march, the lawless march and pray to their outcast    Deities,

the ones who are lawless, too, and disobeyed the highest gods who punished    Them

and brought down the hammer that no one dares defy but them,    The

Lawless.

the lawless, the outlaws in the desert, the cowboy towns, the playgrounds, the   Sinners,

mercy houses, the deserted churches  where the graffiti is wondrous and   Always

pouring salt in the wounds that are severed and suffering in the brown dust,   They’re

dead from years of reproducing the merciless have bred and cared for    The

Unjust.