Hovering Away from the Scene of a crime.

Ego soar’s incredibly, happiness circles the body, and i feel the warmth exiting… The shell becomes punctured to the other side… My old self dies off – my soul releases – i’m reborn – a cloudy-spirit ascends, i begin gravitating, over my body. I look in every direction, notice every detail. I look upon my old self – my body appears projecting a painting of everything i went through And the end is freedom, from the past destructiveness. It feels surreal, overwhelming my spirt, I begin to “hover” away from the scene of the crime….

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Death by Overdose

The rock forms around the water – individuality is dead, society became duplicated – the printer, prints; never slowing to decide on its ethical stand – conformists. Living within a world we look to television for our fashion – the personality doesn’t blossom as it previously had, the pedals drift in the wind – negativity remains. strong hate stays, They’re marching in a  single-fashion, their one size boots hitting the ground with vigorousness – the blue jacket stands out in the darkness. The soul, searching for different, never quite finding the spark; they see dead frowns mass produced; eyes appear sad, overworked, overused, their face is old, and hungering for another fix. Time continues and shall bring change, the junkies die, the dealer’s find a bullet – their organs, fail and their bodies shake – A pipe falls to the ground, hitting the ground with a sweet release, the shadow comes out, and sinks beneath -Danced with the devil, He overcame their mind with ease, and destroyed the GAME. One by one, they met their fate.

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The True Ruler.

there were sheep, wolves, pigs, and velvet ropes. The instructor, was often smiling with a large and antagonizing smile. He reeked of gin and an odour, that triggered the nostrils to cease to breath, he smelt of success, and achievement. His ego was large. His muscles tiny. he began to stumble – over the time of the games… He teased each category. made them maneuver to a beat of his own violin, his red and well strung piece of musical sadness. His tone was aggressive and be-lilting, his hands were tightening as the animals were slow at progressing through the maze. He began to get angry… annoyed at humanity.… He wanted more, he wanted better… he wanted perfection… As the days progressed the being’s would lose their individuality, their dignity, their balls. And each day, this pig, this ruler, would strengthen his games, intensify their work… All while he sat above and grinned with pleasure, his alcoholic lips, lick his lips

he believes in conformity, and relentlessly begins to achieve it – Throughout our society… this man is strong, and ever-so powerful, and he won’t stop… he cannot stop… this world is his for the taking. And each category of animal is for his eating, he chows souls for breakfast, hearts for lunch, and tears for dinner. He sings an awfully dark tune in the morning, that frightens each animal, he sings it without heart and only knows the horrid words, he only understands ruthlessness and betrayal… He pawns each animal, he maneuvers them to stay dedicated, and keep up the rhythm. he yells loudly when they step out-of-line… and he strengthens their mind with his destructive words. And these words grip the soul and bring it down to his level, he dines with the devil, he goes to the games with hitlers, and sparks up a cigarette with Stollen. Drinks his liquid with the Masons.