God, the mythic hero, who wants to go!: A poem 

Deeper than any understanding is the profundity of self 

encapsulated in the embodiment of a maverick, a fool! 

There is no greater good than the vanquishing of all that you 

call good! This lacerated lying theatre has gone beyond his (the Fool’s) 

means. The devious drama, this action-packed evil thriller 

this malevolent masquerade moored in the Matrix’s monopoly! 

Making God feel like a nauseated Neanderthal among you all! 

He has no tribute left of love or endearment to you fakirs of fake, 

fogeys of febrile false foppishness, endeavouring to take away God 

from himself; there is nothing he can cherish anymore! 

Every space is violated by the villains from the vaults of wickedness!  

That makes him (God) revulse while you all scapegoat him to  

protect your own arses? How come you don’t want the  

jingled shingles of destruction when you all deserve it 

for taking the evil as cupid and making it your fractal  

universe of flaccid misbegotten aspirations; and compelling  

the mythic hero to be subservient to the same rot that raped and rapined him! 

I don’t want your convenient cantankering anymore for my saving grace! 

Does anybody have an inkling for the truth that has lain seemingly 

forever entombed in graves within graves. There is no misanthrope  

greater than the one who calls the love of treachery his love. So 

only hostility greets the truth-bringer when his light was foreclosed 

to make him perceive the false illusions of you force feeding and  

force marching him; so, you think all his travail should be your Grimm’s  

fairy tales of the future. Your Cinderellas and Snow Whites like pale  

sinners in comparison to the alleged wicked witches that you burnt 

at the stake. The innocent fool is not your jester, joker anymore. Not the  

maker of Kings that you revile and sodomise to continue evil’s reign.  

The mythic hero has no more democratic wisdom to choose between sides.  

He wants to go, end this futile journey that was a non-starter in the first place for him.  

Your ribaldry is your own revolt against the true nature of God, who  

incarnated as the mythic hero to contest the evil Wishmaster and 

corpulent treachery since the biggening of time! God no longer stands  

for any of you. There is no gracious magnanimous leader who, God chose, who can 

stand the test of treachery’s rapine. No righteous soul free of evil’s contraptions.  

There is no sky beyond it for my space to exist! No one is consolidated by my 

patient livery, my restraint, my indomitable righteousness. None 

of you are worth my salt. The fishy deep sea will use its minions  

to destroy me any which way! The evil morphing Prakash Saint Paul  

has made the entire universe his butterfly net so that I should only perish, 

if I don’t submit to his evil! I cast you all blades of infernal deceit (out of fear for PSP and the deep sea) out of my life!  

Please, none of you dare transgress upon my sanctity anymore!  Get lost! Leave me alone!  I really want to go!