I
What do you seek, chosen wand:
what is your way, to serve the servants?
To wash the hands of the Vagabond;
to wash the feet of weary, sing along
with the harlots and weep fervent
with the mourners, at the descent
of the coffin! Are you God's Left Hand!
II
Come to the dark side, out of the light;
seethe power beyond the scour of earth!
God is not in the torrentous wind, highth
of might, the earth shudders, but no right –
not even in fire, but a gentle sound surge:
Tenkei Ryouken Kamikage Joushitenjo emerge...
those, who have not bowed to the knights!
III
Each pencil serves a purpose, hatchet
is made for the deed and then discarded.
How happy is the tool, who has grasped it.
But you have become like lords and ladies, ardent
in their valour; resplendid in grace awarded!!
Jesus only had the scull, to put the cross regid.
IV
Don't be attached to reason and fame;
those go by sooner, than you think!
What the stomach don't like, it complains;
control your hunger, dark wolf restrain.
Both light and darkness useful to brink
for the choice: either-or; Superman stinks –
before you have washed that cock in mouth lame.
V
Draw your own conclusion, thereafter
you spilt thy tea and bisquits. Talent
your pains reward – seeping in dafter.
Hagia Sophia – the bride to be after;
onwards to Excelsior, booty on the scarlet
shoulder plate, dripping from the rend!
Come with the shield or on it your poster.
VI
How many Houses and wives and Mothers
can you loose in the name of the Lord?
How many infants cast down, unbothered
at the dogs licking their corpses; uncovered
your hatred and their demise – to afford!
Only Nimrod and Obed-Edom shall be sworn
to serve El Shaddai; Jesus Christ; Holy Spirit, brother!!
VII
The rain falls to the Righteous and the Wicked;
Whiteraven shall go, where God wills it.
To make friends with shinigami, give a ticket
to the wanting. Orphans shall pass; the piquet
shall be bulldozed. No life matters, kill it!
Until grief has stricken the ball, who wing it;
hoping to bring the Arc to Yorktown, without pivot...
VIII
What your cold shoulders hath not carried;
stubborn lecherous hearts not fasted, mourned.
That shall not make a Honden in your Merry
Christmas Carol. Carry will show the cherry
on the take – before you stone newborn
child of Christ, the writing on the wall;
singing: “Hello Darkness, my old friend!” worried.
IX
Don't cast out demons, if haven't cast out
yourself like St. Paul; wept like St. Peter – disavowed!
You unworthy servant, who done but a pout;
while given the devil its due and route
for the Kingdom of God, to achieve the mowed
off grassleafs in the soul and guts – move
the spoon, what is not there, and make a Boyscout!
X
I am deceased, like Dagon in his house;
headless, armless, heartless, boundless.
Like Isayah, shocked in awe, a mouse
at the cat, ready for the devour. Who'se
worth is not enough to be hound – less
to run alongside with His Angels Masse.
Here's my flesh and blood, make a spouse!
XI
Burn me like clay, sculpt me like marble;
smelt me like gold, choose me like iron!
I want to serve as shield and sword, garner
me with ornaments and Psalms, holy warden
is awaiting for thy Quest! Be it ebony-ivory
watchtowers and hawknests; overwhelming irony
with ridiculed camel's spit, skunks smell smeared in.
XII
Halleluyah, Christ has arisen for you, people!
Who wants to serve a purpose for the Gospel?
Renounce therefore yourself and follow ye sheeple –
become wise like the serpent and meek as a feeble
turtledove, standing in front of Principalities gossamer
and Powers coldplay – stand firm, so that the yosemite
devil may forsake thee with abandon, be ready Abel!
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