There is a shadow crouching just behind me
In a well conditioned soldiers stance
There is a conflict deep within me
Feeding on the pound of flesh I paid to just repent
I get inspired and I understand these are not just lyrics
I get on my high horse and want to annihilate all their little temples
And altars
Precious lambs
And altars
Traitors, concubines, leeches, daughters
don’t play inside the path of your own bandwagons
There is a white dot at the center of my vision
It’s a well conditioned warriors response
To a conflict started way before me
Thirsty for the tears of flesh I shaved away for tithes
I first prayed and underwent the impositions of being a poet
I jumped on my machine gun post and watched the natives go to mass
And their altars
Precious sheep
All those altars
Preachers, masons, widows, slaughtered
Don’t tempt the Gods when you serve the propaganda
First comes the cut
Then the scab
Then the itch
Then the scar
Then the itch
Then the understanding
You have to die a thousand deaths-
before you see your energy never dies.
Its up to you
Its Heaven
Now the itch
Its all come down to you
In purgatorial never mind
It itches
Now the understanding
You have to take your time to die enough
since you were never mortal..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is one of your better pieces.