Society: Losing Soul Volume I | Page 5

selective caressing, just messing,

blaspheming supreme stressing

in surreal peace,

re-addressing repressive blessings,

public contemplations, guessing

revelations and non-stop confessing.

So real. Piece-meal. Kneel.

Feel the steal.

Biting deceased steel.

Harassing skin ethereal.

Accidentally rampant

even in the deepest

spirit of being,

rolling words and lines

are really not what they seem,

crushing inside like

spinning tsunami is mami call me ma and I melt, murdering Freudian tempests in Orion’s night-light Belt

I’m dead, in his Hamlet bed,

soliloquies of crazed lunacy bled out instead.

Invisible bodies, shadows, sit and listen, stood and read,

eyes filled with tears of evidently silent silouhetted uttered dread.

Lips lusting for greed, spawn of Satan, feed the freed,

Guilting pleasures of spilling seed in speed.

For what need? Believe dem words dem heed,

Assymetric cyclone, gyaldem heart dem bleed.

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