Loose Control

 

I

Wroom, Shroom, Broom, Groom, Doom; Loom –

let it swoon, let it be, your best behaved degrade.

Better pray, better slay, wiseman assail Home;

so soon to be marred by the Ides of March prone.

Trust in the Cross and Holy Spirit, the haze:

then my soul brazen sinks into the abyss Hazel

Azazel, and all the other minions circling the Room.

II

Why should I want or be afraid, depraved, betrayed;

by my own folic stupor, for Greater is He, who saved.

The day, then I was to be undone, yet I was stayed.

Silenced was my lip and the tears quenched inhaled.

Then Valour was not good enough, Wisdom vaned;

Hope was of lost words, Fate soon abstained

for my death, for my conquest to finally ingrained.

III

“I'm Alive!” I sighed in relief, berserk in my Joy;

extatic in excessive laughter ad nauseam in the rain.

The shadowy frames distorting inside the poise;

going from arrow to arrow, mocking Zenon's choice...

Casting stones on the ground, to feel the zone, the plain.

Oozing into the pain, the nurture of outraged slave:

“No, your shackles shall not be undone, good boy!”

IV

Why should you control your faith, believer;

is there a Lie or a Lawsuit or devils advocate?

Trust in your Faith and don't worry too much morrow ever;

may it get its own merit, spoon enough, give a fuck, never!

Whether bigger or smaller, there is no spoon to berate –

loose your Matrix Profundi and seek the bigger Grace:

Those who loose theirs in Christ's Name, shall keep it Forever!!