The Whips Of Stigmata

I am the wind beneath blowing at Hell’s feet  
When Demons come to the roundtable to greet      
My sword’s tip ingrained in the wood    
No permission granted in earthly rest until the understating of man’s devious plight is understood      
Spells I ordained, your souls blended to entertain      
Who dare deny the force of the afterlife, when it resides in me      
The spiritual prodigy born with a discerning third eye    
My heart, mind, soul manifested to obey unto man’s purgatory just to appease      
Can bridge one moment to the next glimpsed of ancient time      
Reached into history to give Roman its blueprints as the empire fell under trickery’s designs      
   
Can close my eyes and be right there      
Through the portal of astral traveling of the fifth dimension,  just like that, through thin air      
Because you cannot see, or comprehend never disbelieve      
Some beguiling souls have locked secrets, only the Illuminati or the Freemasons will ever come to agree      
Faith on lock      
Destiny by my soul can unblock      
Karma, the Creator’s punishment to mankind when the Temple’s arrogance, refuses to stop      
Born in the reminisce of time, psyches to save, and ordained by the North star my existence is well defined    
I can taste, smell, and feel man’s earthly demise      
Hold tight on to my hand and keep your heart pure unto me as we make each our first time      
As surely, I will covet your spirit on earth as the sun in the East shall rise      
      
I predict      
I kiss      
I am the Magician who stars have foretold of its miraculously gift      
Shh… who dares announce such extraordinary they posses      
The snap of a finger to cry in the last breath for one’s death      
I am Haitian Creole it’s in my blood      
Have centered and learned to channel spiritual love from above      
It is exceptional, Revelations, yet Stigmatic’s painful undulation      
I surrender unto the stripes of its beautiful dismay as life moves upon it axis pace      
To inhale such Heaven my skin lashes, tortured in silent under God’s ultimate’s grace      
Hell for you never to taste the bitterness’ or its trace      
For the creation of the human race      
      
I am the one who has a foot in tarnation my heart in the realm of Heaven to balance out the universe      
To disavow human’s progression to submit to a diabolical curse      
No strife within my care as you reside the purity of your seven sins denounced by Heaven      
Within hope I am the one who permits you from the falling to your self-created sin, the unknown eleventh      
Your subconscious when right and wrong is not found in your mental dwellings      
Free will      
The persecutor when not upholding the universal divine oath thy should not kill or steal      
Hope, when you cannot go on      
Sounds for reassurance when your ears cannot atone      
      
The benediction when your mouth speaks degradation, hatred on the prowl      
Serenity I uphold the light in the calling of midnight, hooting like a wise owl      
I tell you this to keep my Charkas spiritually aligned      
Words are mightier than the sword, as the ocean roars during turbulent times      
I wear the Tarot, Loa rites of ancestral passages, the cradle of Divinity in one hand      
Love, compassion faith, trust, the olive branch of understating to grant virgin intellects across the land      
To judge me brings shame upon your head      
No psychological balance given to foolish minds to turn and toss in detraction, persecution of blind daggers led  
Yet magistrate me, in not recognizing the stench reeking of your own bed      
When you speak of ensorcelled, the marring of the souls’ worth      
Suffrage found in your loins and wombs never to give rebirth      
If not marked with good intentions , will never come to past of this cruel world      
Hitherto, to unleash my beautiful passion, rapture, lust, ecstasy blessed as my mind softy unfurls      
      
I am the one the darkness bathes in Divinity’s light      
No lights, or cameras will ever be the vanity of my reflective plight      
You can never measure the gift of the rite of passage might      
Some occurrences in life are not meant to be understood      
A moment once encountered will never know the starvation of righteous and good      
I am the stalwart soul in the softness of time      
Hands of wisdom given you the Hieroglyphics can decipher like its dialect tongue was once mine