Ajustable Ventilation

Ajustable Ventilation

In the pounds, in the pounds where the sun never shines
I wait for the morning on clouds
darkness of the world is bright
Congested lungs gasping
This one on the bench undermining prioresses
Wandering where I’ll be next year
In the pounds, in the pounds where the sun never shines
I will hate you just the same and complain
Breeding right have not aright when everyone is insane
Living comfortably socialized advertisement
Corporation planted semen garden
Calling them humane never minding the robotics
They will want to be neat
Everyone is pretty when they are fake
Scent of souls I am stricken
private lines spying
Coming after you in the darkness
In the pounds, in the pounds where the sun never shines
I capture love and produce
Expression and feeling thoughts coincide perfect apprentice
Adjustable ventilation

Overthrown

Overthrown

I trip through these compartments of my exotic mind
The space of memory revels more, I am entrant yet cannot climb over the bank
Dream vision of 1987 wherein I once lived an episode of some fools robbery
I sit and I watch repulsed as my house burns to the ground
The house next door roof has been caved in
The bullies have been crushed
These trips in and out of my minds compartments tantalize
Pushed into a ditch and almost had been put to death
saved by my brother who sometime later I would end up fighting
These memories stowed
Into a garden shroud some specific type of angel from the universe beholds
A flaming sword speaking to me in a loud voice threatening
While not to as to threaten, the angel has to make sure the message
Is properly given, there is severe consequences
I do not listen because I am defiant
And his sword is now mine