"THINK; Know Truth, WRITE: Know Truth, READ; Know Truth" imagined, theorized, partly written, and typed by: King B. Rite - The Poet/Psycopath Pxalm XI: Xenophobia; Instigate... J'tu Orion Zathaniel R. - The Depicter/Narrator

"THINK; Know Truth, WRITE: Know Truth, READ; Know Truth" imagined, theorized, partly written, and typed by: King B. Rite - The Poet/Psycopath

Pxalm XI: Xenophobia; Instigate... 1/2
J'tu Orion Zathaniel R. - The Depicter/Narrator

In flames investigate as speculator; burn with the way i place facts over fiction; still in existence my word continues to expand with explanation; I EXIST ... Stranger than fiction facts can be manipulated into mythmatical vystical metaphors... TRUTH be told by a figment of fiction... Rumor has it that gossip can go a long way from where it began to where it will end with empty hands asking obnoxious questions... A plead bargain in the form of wanting more out of nothing... False fabrication can lead strangers astray with a void from within waiting to be filled by any and all that is willing to feed what starves for attention... Now pay the cost which will be more than imagined... One knee perhaps to a King that has an upper hand filled with facts over fiction... Lies have been told more than once all at once upon a moment ago is more than just a moment ago... Where is the results to a promise that was implied with insinuation that consequences will be met at the end of a thought acted upon; a way to control the slaves with false advertised high hope; it is gone and lost in perdition, even if it did once exist a long moment ago... Moments have changed, a paradigm shift, the equinox is no longer in the position of where it was once; New Found Hail has erupted... with no moment to waste a decision was made; the worth it takes, the courage, the lack of fear, the PRIDE, the authenticity in the way deprived eyes look towards The Sky Above with acceptance, i appreciate the welcome to HAIL and a farewell from a safe haven that never existed... ... Words mean more when thrown out The Window of perception. Opportunistically; i knock no more... A rhapsody away lead to a “xodaraPandora” Box that was cranked to fast in a lane of self destruction lead me to surpass the process of thought, ahead of my own. i see NO reason; i treason... “DO NOT TREAD ON MY FREEWILL AND/OR FREEDOM” …to hold braveless backs that do not stand up for their own existence... I LAUGH. where is the strength when all that is left is empty hands, at the deep end of The Corridor, in DARKNESS waiting for a unfair handout; I SPIT on those that saliva my name... GREATNESS does not look down on others, no reason to; for greatness can be grown if watered properly with the right amount of ingredients, with selfish permission i fertilize; by releasing my fecal mass upon the chests of those that continue to turn the other cheek... By all means i rather not stare down death for death has been reaped by my past experience, competitionless.
... Out came a headless solid thought figment that swayed with enough in syn xight to cause arrogance to evolve with evil intent onto a chain reaction of flames to break the sound barrier... A sonic boom of a flash can happen within a split moment post deja vu... An erected epiphany gone insanely wishingless... Fiending for a void can become a routine; hectic habit into a very attractive addiction... Spaced and paged... Blanken with a purpose to find what needs to be found in order to fill the void of feeling empty... A canvas that has no paint is awaiting to be attacked by the hand that colors each stroke of madness into a beautiful lie that reveals the Truth that nothing is nothing; else matters when feelings are felt... Who in the NEW FOUND HAIL gets offended easily unless weakness is what makes up the matter out of nothing... Strength is to survive and is vital to obtain to be seen from any location... A statue of a dominant status quo; i stand corrected... Dialog has devolved over dramatically, i can not believe anything that can not compete with the way i speak silently through Read Words... Where is the enthusiasticness of ones authentication when all that is said is just gibberish in one ear and out the other, as quick as a flash it disappears and is no longer a matter of fact due to the way it was said in the first place... No purpose to speak when not spoken to... If i claim there is no purpose then whats the point, i prove nothing is nothing all at once more than once... To expand in arm’s reach is to grab any and all that is unseen, i find a way to define my own purpose which is to be what i can with the short amount of moments i was given only to experience the existence i was given, an honest mistake gone wishing; insanely jealous of those that leach... for pain was not felt in order to see what i mean. A gift given with no obligation... I do not accept apologies, i forgive no other that takes a bite out of filthy hands in order to feel free at no cost... Where is my crown in the shape of a mark; my territory in the form of those that see through my eyes... KING ME; My Pride...
I do not have a quarrel with no other; i will not come down from my palace to lower my highness down to the level of devilution... I do indeed have a humerus bone to pick with all those scroungy skeletons shoved within armoire that contains a wardrobe that consists of secrets; better yet described as pretty white lies that hide in DARKNESS to afraid to come, clean and wash the filthiness of their own stains that have been left behind... A collection of linens used to wipe an used, inhaled, and ashed disposable, finger licking, knee slapping, hair pulling, vertebrae breaking rear end of a cylinder of finely CUT guts rolled in dirt; paper thin half wit with no filter due to the way words are just regurgitated with out practice; i smoke as boiler. The deepest, darkest corners of my mind along side of a brave back; combined makes a Hail of a King slash Hail of a BEAST from with-in-side-out... My facialless impression of an idiomatic expression implies i am reptilian “COLD-BLOODED” as i continue to hiss... I see no reason to drift away from the winds that blow my mind into an explosion of self manufactured euphoria... Self satisfied, i blow my own tip, i swallow no Pride... I spit; i appreciate the interrogation... With a mouth that has yet to speak in the presence of ignorance; i do not open my book to just any mind reader... I leave a sense of vystery to the byproduct of FEAR. Where are my manners; i have none to matter for i am out numbered, dead center of a court that has no morals... Open court to speak when lips are blistered and words are spoken out of a professional term, where is the maturity in moments that have aged through out decades and decades... i raise the dead, under my wing; i father more than just my own, a far fetched future offspring. they do not see that their bitter tongues can be just as disgusting as King. Three mathematical equations that still exist; HYPOCRITES, IGNORANCE and COMMON SENSEless COURTESY... Hold the door open, pull out the throne and get on ONE KNEE... How insane can i be, if the voice inside my mind belongs to me... And the voice inside slaves obviously is owned by royalty; conducted by the hands of filth... I demand a retrial to all my actions; honest mistakes, premeditated prediction placed upon undying fate a demise of destiny... A rematch concludes an undisputed champion has already von in VAR! the fabric of a soul has been woven upon my Electrifying; Unknown Bones... Predicament of premonition to ignite the day into a dusk of dawn; The Epic Shade that will cast out all the ones that self portray to be what they are to afraid to stand up for due to an over whelming amount of collection in hand; a weapon of choice... Ancient words of worth along side Numerical Illusion is a contradiction; i love the taste of hypocrites; the first meal of the day; most often eaten with a side of abortion... Abandoned offspring of spineless flock... Feathers plucked and necks pulled, twisted and choked i pull out the thoughtless throats of those that can not teach their offspring how to plant a Tree from a seed of deceit, due to lack of experience in an open garden... With only one tool; in hand, i weaponize my elongated cylindrical reproduction system, as key i will insert my over grown intuition in the mind of Zenith; only to pry open the way she seize the moment, a collection of grains that fall and accumulate matter if calculated with precise precision; immaculate she will be... In the event of a mental purge, i will devirginize her mind, and cleanse it of all the white lies that have caused more than enough chaos in her way of thought process... As i insert my point of view, i will pull out the stabs upon her back... As i bleed, she will bleed, we will bleed... Blood will be thicker than water converted into an addiction, walked on by hypocrites and separated by better halves... They lack mental ability to manipulate flames... KING OF PAIN obtains the light at the velocity of in syn xight... TORCH IN HANDS ill light up a New Found Day... Into a collection of ash compacted by the law of gravity... I Moon the grounds of Chaos... Fault post blaze. Mark my word “XodaraPandora” double helix, a mirror image display upon the surface of open waters within the furnace of existence can reflect a massive artifact, inanimately is infested with lower than dirt specimens that can not and will never appreciate the fact that an ATOM is the eve of creation... Overly grown and microscopically viewed from a long distance away to implode the perspective of a sight for soar eyes is a magnificent magnified view of pointless existence that will never see from the heights of my eyes... The highlights of my confession are outstanding, an event that only takes place once in a Blue Moon... As rare as I AM... I am climatically peaked as an epitome and unseen The Invisible Age has come... my open mind is a felony due to the way i rebel against all that holds slaves apprehended; a repeat in prehistory... Sentenced to death, i assume... “EXECUTION OVER EXHILE” i must be beheaded and left for dead... Upon a post that continues to grow; daily i allow leafs to fall upon the grounds of Chaos... Fault collected by the dead to overthink the possibilities of what “IF” …it is what it is; it was meant to be... If not then this would not be as READ as my blood, drip per drop, i’m nonstop, similar to existence, ever expanding in explanation, unbelievable it is... Limits are endless when not a slave to inanimateness... Or insane with counting on Numerical Illusion to imprison the worth in calculation... Sacred geometry of the cerebra can be an addiction due to the way it never ends... The point of no return “BERMUDA; Utopia” it is... Never again will i walk the grounds of Chaos... Fault; i do not fear death, i persuade with provoke a coward to shoot for the farthest constellation and aim me as a target... I will be obliged and open my arms to “The Death of Me” …im so far gone already... I will have no reason to believe INSINITY will be the outcome of me; post death, again and again, one to many moments ago... i was left for dead, i now reap the benefits given to me as doubts... Where is the confidence now? I ask rhetorically; authenticity over counterfeit... Illusion can not and will not defeat or compete with experience still in existence with a confession to match as evidence, i alibi my mental state; im no where to be found upon the grounds... Vastronomically as Contradictator; I, Self Portray. I HATE I... I JUDGE I... I LOVE I... I HAIL I with exclamation; do not fear King for what was done as a Pirate; Hear King for what he will do as Majesty... Overthrone’d into perdition, i leave a confession of all confession: VISTORY; a more suitable concept “A Theatrical Thesis based on True Emotion Influenced by Memory” A Myth, A legend, A Victorious King that leads no other... I HAIL alone... I feed the weak, gain strength and be all that can be reached with arms that are chained to illusion for they buy all that is sold... A riddle: how much is a skunk worth... A scent away from gaining sense, for a stench can be seen; with no value, i compare my pricelessness, words of worth can not be sold due to a certain amount of percentage... i find flaws in false belief and exploit the treachery treasury as PIRATE; it takes one to know one... And CAPTAIN; I AM...
The New End is only a predicament of premeditated predictions of perdition; premonition’d and mentioned once before with metaphor to fear the HAIL out of slaves that are influenced by ignorance with short attention span they know not how to listen when told not to touch the kettle of a beast... All that glitters does not gold, as much as it hurts TRUTH must be TOLD; by a soul ahead of its own destiny, my vision is far from here... Blown of of proportion; emotions get the best of me... Seriously; i’m problematically magnetic, i define the definition of gravity... Lack thereof i levitate with flames that raise the heat in hate to a New Found Day; for it is hot when heated by flames... I enforce regal rules; a New Found Engagement... DO NOT DOUBLE CROSS THE LINE. For when i cease to exist my offspring will still be upon the grounds and my word will be passed down Generation XEN to Generation XEN after... Beneficially a benefit it is to be a son of a BEAST. I HAIL INSIGNIA... - King B. Rite - The Poet/Psycopath