pictures of fields without fences. shangri la. and jesus
jesus in a bowl of germs
after all god loves this whole of worms
but hates common black sheep who refuse to follow the shepherd. who heard little lambs into slaughter? listen - to the silence of the man's-life-is a serial killer far
too complex to expose any logical pattern
below saturn and mars there are stars dominating the tunnel vision of cast obstruction and jesus might have been a biological weapon of mass destruction
specifically designed to wipe out millions with vanity and pride
lab engineered and born
advanced chemistry in a bowl of germs like hybrid corn
complete with hidden agenda beneath the surface lurking and smirking under a crown of thorns. the crucifixion was a hoax
a cruel joke shop poison rose bud
emanating smoke screen and only begotten son soap suds
come and wash your sins away!
said the spider to the flying rows of holy roman hope bugs. let's see if we can give noah's old flood a run for it's money with the first drop of cold blood from the cross began a damned birth. the contamination spread without aids hospital orderly's or cancer sticks
and stone moving angels
but no bones for artifacts or relics
just a vacant hole on easter sunday and a note about his rising soul
sounds pretty fishy; stand atop the mount and feed me loaves of bullshit our last meal was a feast at a table headed by a lupine figure hiding in fleece. no one ever thought to check jesus for the sign of the beast
no one ever lifted his hair and looked beneath
it was there on his neck
no one cared
or was even looking for proof. what
you didn't expect joe and mare' to volunteer the truth
and judas did not hang from his own noose
it was just made to look that way
jesus christ! he was a planned device
schizophrenic double edge sword; prophet and antichrist;
good but ultimately evil
with multiple people within shouting orders. leading the flock over the border and through the woods into the land of honey milk and slaughter
selling water for wine in between black out gorges on swine
eventually leading up to crusaders with torches in line
all the way to jerusalem from north of the rhine
infected by motives that were all but divine
and the same virus has still got the sons and daughters of time on life support waiting for orders to die. they struggle to stay afloat while their saviour keeps walking on by
on top of the water kicking salt in their eyes. it's all in the mind state
they're all still alive but planning their own wake
waiting for the wave of an apocalypse that already came to break;
fuck armegeddon
life is heaven and hell
the only fate is what we make the only fate is what we make fate is what we make
fate is what we make
we make fate. your essence was conceived and born to breathe in pictures of fields without fences
it remains relatively unconcerned with this non existent god forsaken whole of worms; natural selection has you headed for shangri-la
don't settle for jesus in a bowl of germs
don't settle for allah
amon-ra
vishnu
or abraham in a bowl of germs. don't settle for anything less than universal respect for every living creature that has breath in it's lungs and chest regardless of race