Temple

From a buttercup to raw elephant trees
I knew they tried to program me,

their whispers of hate and lozenge that always quaked my ivory desires,
 never satisfied me.


I had spirit on my mind, but the butterflies always bothered me.
Fluttering my train of thoughtand all,  I swatted at their aggravating beauty.

You see, I knew that my body is just a temple,
that I am my own entity.
I create my own.
I knew that I couldn't know peace without pain and pleasure without abuse.
Potion without sickness. Fear without hate.
I don't hate people. I hate the program and those who follow the program must hate themselves for letting "them" have control over "them".
I'm all open and have never been so alive to live.
My body, I gave to the lyre that needed love and despite my past, unto that temple, I sculpted my own land.


I know that I am truly an artist.


And whoever tells me different.
Is one hell of a liar.