The evil thief and treacheriser took all that was mine.
In his hand, his rapining blade was his lease, his lifeline!
God lived in spaces, heretofore, sublime! His cup was grail,
and, in it, the swirling juices were divine! And such was
misfortune, couldn’t call a free tune. Not even honey was
sweet taste, when all was taken too soon! Job would rather
be a hob(o) than be married to the mob! Such ignominy, that
I couldn’t even call my own name; it resonated beyond the
horizon, in enemy territory, and became their game!
Should I know that truest love was no benevolent blessing
from above. Neither raven of death was she, nor dove of love,
But what she can often be is a deceit to still my glove! Should
I think that cloak and dagger all came with push and shove? The
seas can have their groundswell, but my land needs not a water-well!
And I am much the first space, please take a look at my face!
It was not only a lost race, but also much too much stolen light
and grace! This first point and Adam Kadmon, subjected to the
most evil base! Each limb torn apart from limb; but memory never
went dim! O Mum and Dad, what did we own and have? O true love,
was it just a (for hausfraus) costume drag? O pets, see (!) the treacherous was
the fag! O siblings, do you reckon I did lie and brag?! Do you think I am cushioning my
conditions for my convenience? Am I also not unconditional coherence?
Yet, I am hardly a yogi with yuletide yoghurt, even if no pundit with posture!
See, my armies were undone by treason, inquisition and witch-hunt. So, I
don’t wallow in compassion or peace-pipe punt! I am no plaudit of libidinous
shaggers of injustice; I am, in fact, an audit on saboteurs of justice!
Then, do you think I deserve to fall at every call? Should I not, then,
call up my own powers to strike down all those fallacious towers tall?
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