A Channeled Poem

Entheogen related fiction and non-fiction.

A Channeled Poem

Postby Niedkern Knight » Fri Dec 07, 2012 1:11 am

Death the key to Life and Life the gate to Death
The balance shifts
A new path unfolds
All the years spent in confinement or something to behold
From wence you came you sink back in
An inky tarball tickles your chin

You think yourself immortal
A touch, a kiss, a whim
All circle round
An infinite loop
entwines us all
To the earth we angels fall
A cape of hope
Juxed apposed with devils peaks

speaks
speaks
speaks a way

a way to see

yahweh poured into the mold
from the rising to the damned
Aloof to the mind from the mind
your pantheon awaits
just wait and see
I have hewn many briars in my garden, but many are still close.
The noxious weeds quiver in the fiber of their being as I draw near
I am a root striker, and I am HERE!
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Niedkern Knight
 
Posts: 42
Joined: Tue Oct 02, 2012 11:19 am

Re: A Channeled Poem

Postby Niedkern Knight » Fri Dec 07, 2012 1:13 am

Syndrom of the Millenium

I now know what they mean by freedom aint free
Its been bought and sold as the number one commodity
(pause) since the original dichotimy
A lifeless majority, illusions of morality, devoured by insanity
While the crime lords run the streets
For sakes peats

Run Run baby dear
the time is yet near.
When they'll tear open the sky,
an everyone will fry.
I speak easy knowing I will die. Shove a needle in my eye. I hope to lie.
A radical religion of apocolyptic proportions.
Predicated on macroscopic distortions
This mechanical megalomaniacal masochistic mass movement.
Produces this paradoxical predaceous piss-poor improvement.
I have hewn many briars in my garden, but many are still close.
The noxious weeds quiver in the fiber of their being as I draw near
I am a root striker, and I am HERE!
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Niedkern Knight
 
Posts: 42
Joined: Tue Oct 02, 2012 11:19 am

Re: A Channeled Poem

Postby Niedkern Knight » Fri Dec 07, 2012 1:15 am

On Material Hedionism

A hedonistic tone runs through my mind like a wild stalion.
Diverting my attention.
I dance to and fro in my perversion.
A dog that bites the hand indeed.
I have hewn many briars in my garden, but many are still close.
The noxious weeds quiver in the fiber of their being as I draw near
I am a root striker, and I am HERE!
User avatar
Niedkern Knight
 
Posts: 42
Joined: Tue Oct 02, 2012 11:19 am


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