Davids Epistle to the Three JANs or (The Warrior and The Phoenix)

 
(i) To The Three

I look at you three standing prideful together
And it makes me think: Where's the cauldron?
For witches brew is your weapon of choice
Eye newt (Pissed of course)
Toe of fungal infection (Yellow)
Wool of wolf in a foxes jumper
And Tongue of lying snakes on a plain
Thy spell casting second to nuns on the run
Thy shape shifting miraculous apes and fakes
Thy evil spread far and wide: Toxic avengers
Hiding in a mirage of lies, hate and fakery
Angels of light for sure, but only dark light

Your most recent campaign, seen by others
Is to your credit; but not in such a good way
What you give out eventually reflects you true self
Having said that kudos must be given for effort
You have managed to break the spirit
Of this broken down, tired, old war horse
The Scottish warrior has left the building
From tartan hero to saccharin zero in your eyes
You have made him weep; considering morbidity
I am currently a mere shadow of that man
Almost fatal blows, such was your tenacity
And evil intentions assuming weakness of age

The kind and generous man that once was
Has been defeated, beaten into the ground
Whip lashed for your enjoyment; burnt on your altar
You must be proud, your parents must be proud
Of your seeming success from your Book of Lies
The flames lick round the body of the Highlander
He maketh not a sound and is now at peace
Rest in peace oh silenced warrior
The Spirit of the Phoenix is in You

(ii) Dear jAyne

I once believed in you
Your talk of love and justice
But it was hate and just ice
Wrapped up in a fuck off bow
And modern art cuntage paper
You pulled your wool over my eyes
To blind me to your known cruelty
I was you mutton to the slaughter
And you were such a master butcher
You could have done so much good
But you chose your own path
And all I have for you is pity
I will not converse with you ever again
You are as you should be, as you deserve
By thine own hand; you are dead to me
Go in peace, go with God, just go

(iii) Dear Johannes

I never believed in you
You were ignorant and arrogant
Without any visible reasons or skills
Without any redeeming features whatsoever
Your evil streak obvious and on full view
Tact and diplomacy beyond your ken
Like a bull shit in a fine China shop
Leaving only breakages and your stench
One thing in your favour, your so transparent
You clearly are a sad old cunt
Hands tied with virtual apron strings
I will not converse with you ever again
In any kind of shape, form or capacity
You are as you should be, as you deserve
By thine own hand; you are dead to me
Go in peace, go with God, just go

(iv) Dearest jaNis

I come to you with a heavy heart
A wasted pointless contrite heart
I feel your evil intent did the most damage
Your works more subtle than the rest
Almost silent; almost under the radar:
Almost:I thought only I recognised it
But you had help making it transparent
To others and in turn to me, myself and I

In a life time I thought I could ever utter
The words below, but as a grief stricken loner
With still a love for the departed
I will not converse with you ever again
You are as you should be, as you deserve
By thine own hand; you are dead to me
Go in peace, go with God, just go

(v) To The Three Gathered

Birds of a feather fuck together
So it is written, so shall it be done
You called out to me come hither
Witness our celebrations of laughter
Dancing, singing and finger pointing
Our spoken lies and written incantations
Our cackles, crackles and hug-less tackles
Hate lives, it never forgives
We three will always loath you

(vi) Ding Dong

Ding Dong
Our bitch is dead
With all our arrows in his head
Ding Dong
Our crippled bitch is dead,........

Ding Dong
We're all aglow
We fucked him hard
And killed him slow
Ding Dong
Ole phantom legs is dead,....

(vii) In Conclusion (Your End)
 
When I was a boy I didn't do boyish things
When I became a man I put away boyish things
When I became a broken man my inner child
Came back a stronger boy loving boyish things
He is coming back out to play, slowly


As they say, "Never suffer a witch to live."
Wise words indeed, normally misdirected
But in my mind alone they must be erased
In my heart they cannot abide any longer
And my mind they will no longer haunt

(viii) P.s.

[i]Once upon a time,.....[/i]

There was a sad old warrior
Battle weary and broken
Scars exposed by crows
New scabs and welts created
He unfurled his white flag
No longer a "No Surrender Scot."
But why the steak with no fries
what were the flames for
Hatefulness or a purification rite
Possibly inadvertently both

The Spirit of the Phoenix
Laughs in the face of death
Rising from smoking ashes
Come hither, see the changeling
Witness a becoming
Witness a death's head moth
Returning to the light

AMEN


Inspiration:  "Jan met de pet" (Jan with a cap on its head), standing for a common person, generally from a lower class  (Double Dutch)