Trains Depart

It becomes more evident with each and every passing day

Somehow, all along these winding roads, I have managed to find my way ahead

Twice, they thought twice to expect my ruin

Messengers intersected them, sent from Voodouin ancestral ties

Now, nobody tries shit like they tried with each other before

Where the door is should be perfectly clear

Our home was designed to make it through every epoch in time

Crimes will no longer be permitted

Not upon the spectrum that guards so closely the realm of our hearts

Trains depart

North-bound

South-bound

To and fro every day across this city

Pity is a piece of the past

It has no place now in this domain

Insane 

in the brain

is a complicated procedure

I realize now that people make what they make of themselves

They can lie to themselves and everyone else until they turn elephant blue with rigor mortis

It will not ever turn the tortoise into the hare nor the hare into the tortoise

The truth forever remains the same

Is there honestly anyone out there now who is not aware that they have always been playing a big game?

Technology does not really enhance us

It just milks our pockets dry

It virtually remains the same in nature

A place to rant over innocent riddles that were never meant to be solved by most

You become the eager host

Begging to be drained of all your vitals

Wearing you down

Taking over your titles

Your kids

Your money

Your spouses

Your spirits

Sucked away, ever so slowly

Trinity, shattered

Setting free the holy ghosts in you

Turn around now to face the other half of you

At least you have someone left to make it through this maze with you

The who is a tiny creature from a cartoon Christmas town

We are all nobody when we separate to enjoy the fruits of our labor in silence all alone

Getting exactly what we planned so long for

At the same time, realizing that we have forgotten our original plans completely

So discreetly we trudged along brow-beaten paths

Empty inside from hiding out for so long

Take a big fat rip off the bong

To yank your overgrown heads from the burial mounds that have become your bungholes

Jarred awake from what seemed like an endless parade of wicked dreams

Like Ben-Wah balls plucked perfectly from a hungry rectum

The colors of our spectrum have all been appointed to their separate tasks

We must start by unraveling the veil

When the next South-bound train departs toward the land where the Thunder Birds still fly

The picture in the sky will be Unity....

5/7/2017