Thy Will be done

 I will, so chill on the Blue Pill, no skill; 

the Red is the path of redemption Black 

and White hath to be sled. Missing kills 

on your spree, I decree for a fealing mill. 

Fight or standup, that is there the track 

to frame your compound positions cracks 

in the fourth wall of a numbscull molehill! 

As the blue ribbon awarded Wardens off; 

virtue was too VR and abstracted Automata. 

Mata Hari invited Hare Krishna and Nemiroff 

to Shach Mata on the Morgana path rough. 

Instilled in the maddened cackophony Kata; 

scattered sacrilegious legions ellegiated Fata. 

Fin -- I'm Fine -- Infinity, the trinity of fuck Off! 

Manifesting the machinations of sensations Will; 

a poet never means anything, but his nightmares. 

Sometimes you ride; other times, you bitch willow. 

Birches marching on your arching marshes mellow. 

Generating more symbols a Sybille could dare 

to give account and defy Apollo for the gifted scare. 

Be afraid, if you dream a vision vivisecting your dill. 

Thy Will be done, before you outgun for northern Goth; 

sold for the solemn tranquility, that good will prevail. 

What if evil is the source code, you need to crue, Nimrod! 

Master once passions, not attach to current circumstnce hod. 

Hodor Mordor, Go Saruman War the Noldor. Frodo grayscale 

Foenor the golden fleeing dutchmen, who forgot to set sail 

to Ultima Thule and Arkadia Major. The Northern Frog Toad.