To my messengers
Contributed by
BSteel
on
Wednesday, 13th December 2006 @ 06:50:30 PM in AEST
Topic:
DreamsandWishes
|
benovelent as a king can be,
mercy to the limit strains me,
patience is the greatest virtue yet the sharpest pain,
it sinks so deep, and leaves such a sting,
all feelings must be expressed through pleasure or pain,
whether on top, or down, down, down, alone, in the dark,
i can pick you up, but it's up to stay atop, of your own kingdom,
your delinated receptive wave don't overstrain or you may not be able to ride it out,
no more advice, i can't always have your back, this ain't king of the mountain,
i'm throughly mounted, undaunted, burned the gauntlet of so called artists,
the challenge ain't nothin, to a God beyond self acknowledged targets,
i'm a burning shell carpenter's got floor plans for me to live longer than a tortoise,
watch the man shift your alliances catch fleeting feelings that clog your heart like cholestrol,
the pills that sadisic freudian freaks prescribe to try to chill your ills,
besides my pops i aint met any chemist scientist with any true heart,
i'm not here to tear down walls like Michael Moore,
but ya'll reached a new low,
i'm so ******* raw, you can't market this above ground,
take a slice a my soul,
you can't have your cake and eat it too,
these days it seems, it's like nobody can enjoy themselves,
without reading every magainzine on how to behave,
a piece of paper and pen, what's that get you what labor are you truly delivering,
for those actually caged up in every aspect and circumstance,
when will actual physical labor be respected on an equal playin field as art,
for there is artsy art and then there's meassages from god, jeouslousy,
raw uncut diamond, try and cut me apart, i'm still shining,
take my words and run with it, like the same cowards that orchestrated the evilness, coniving,
how to steal my mother's millk i mean my oil, yeah oil rises above water like jesus,
any chemist knows this, stand me in a burning oilfield, till all my atoms distintegrate,
if it was up to your generation of rationed out loonies, your still so babrbaric,
i know your fighting through the demon's meanest stinging pride, ya''ll think judge everyhting and everyone,
is alright, in fact it's more than alright it's part of your corny blood sucking service jobs,
why should i knock your hustle, cause mines justified by the lord, i know this in my blood, yet you ain't treatin this genration right, maybe this whole piece is wrong, but i will not apologize,
in fact let your mind spin in every direction till you try to make sense,
of how this boy could get the best, of all your fruitless experiment's,
your designs within my design pale in comparsion,
for i am lord personified, no physchology could qauntify,
this movement started by one man, mentally backed against the wall,
my pain is nothing more than the work i put into it,
mental work is not to be taken for granted,
most can't handle it,
if your not on God's path, God's wavelenght,
no design of words spinned on a spool,
could beat the ruler of every golden rule,
the san francisco gold rush of science is over,
now your just pan handling, rather manhandling souls,
got more marekting than substance,
get your hands dirty again,
you could never hold my entorurage of gods down again,
it emanates out, yes starts from the center,
your train of thought is off track,
spend some years in true anguish,
and come back then boys and girls,
maybe then,
you can spend time with the most benovlelent king.
Copyright ©
BSteel
... [
2006-12-13 18:50:30]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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