Image for the poem  The Elders Have Spoken (The Obsessed Troll-COTS)

The Elders Have Spoken (The Obsessed Troll-COTS)

To know the mark of the beast look upon they embedded of thy kissed face          
Weaken mentally to deal with the channeling of self, yet a two legged entity walking among thy human race              
Royalty has pressed upon the lips felt in my honeyed taste            
Rage festering from the fountains of a forgotten livid youth            
Sisterhood in denial, denounced living in the darkness of a recluse            
Reliving moments of stolen time from an unhappy birth            
Until the womb only generation floats in its myth            
A heart filled with mockery, disdain, and dirt            
Discern eyes in reality for what you truly are            
Empusa in carnage merged with Echidna, two entwined demonesses stood under the alignment of stars            
We see what others dare see not            
A bitter and foul tasting entity escaped from the Garden of Eden begot            
Wailing for acceptance just to be true  
Unsure of fate’s presence therefore, banners of neurotic intentions, narcissistic in its grandeur to deceive the eyes of gullible fools              
We hear your silent unacceptable cries from the heighten atonement you seek            
No spiritual element in the valley of the dry bones from the blood of a sacrificed sheep            
Disliking your existence, the reminisce of falling under grace of being browbeaten, labeled by your peers as an unaccepted basket case freak        
Still crying in the palms of gluttony’s punishment  
You have polluted your systems over seasons, the track marks, the nose bleeds, detoxes time  
The next high, the next fix, the tourniquet tighten grip  
For that feeling to the sky, my wild child, the rollback of the eyes, the head roll, the drift  
Did you see the Children of the Sun among the clouds  
Maybe not, you had to come back down  
Then stand in judgment when Hell is your core’s designs  
Life is a circle of redemption, is your temple still unclean, as the sun rise and set, will your life ever be content                
Idle hands does the Devil’s work              
Cannot close your eyes, by the setting of the sun to the height of the moon, Karma knows you are cursed            
Devoid of sleep to tap into your subconscious and all its spiritual gifts          
Such a pity when even love words cannot bridge ancient worlds for you to atone, as trifling souls continues to ride evil’s flow only brings with it discontent and rift            
The lesser in the degrees you cannot manifest to regenerate the mind, body, and comfort found in the subconscious of the soul            
Inhale the air, the stench in the air of a She-Devil is always on patrol      
Even Luna refuse to illuminate a path for earth to console            
Bow to the wind  
Humanity is at battle for soul, and we will defend  
We are here and we are at our stance  
Life is about decisions or about the correct chance  
Positive souls are looking for spiritual kingdoms to be won  
Lost minds still carry upside down crosses  
Have sold their soul and afraid to sleep in fear of Satan cashing in on his earthly losses  
To sacrifice of an offspring from the placenta from which scratched from the womb as he sprung  
The cries resonated the globe as Lucifer’s remnant was reborn, the parent now speaks of vileness, childish with a two-fork tongue  
Cursed before birth  
What are your words of comfort to earth now, what is the worth  
When it slithers with the thunder of malice  
Evilness sadistic  
Enticement of sick and twisted  
From which my wild child you now run  
Trying to find the light of our divine Sun  
Locating your soul in the dark is never fun  
My child your older by many moons  
And attempt to curse the light from which you seek, where your mind remains locked in Hades’ sealed tomb  
The fertility of well-wished seeds of any man’s loins and any woman’s womb shall always reflect by their generation after generation  
Healing hands by the rite where this French Créole Haitian stands with love and preservation  
Had someone in society had not been denied that beautiful feeling of a maternal shoulder, wisdom, three dialects of teaching instilled in this melaninated professional, yuppie sista, to always give respect  
Go through life, smile, and laugh through your tears  
A fragile mind would have been prepared and not internally festering with such wicked, babbling, in coherent fears  
Does it make a slow return into a hellish abyss more grand  
Earth time is running out, it appears, Lucifers’ dames are trying to take all the Creator’s men soul, Revelations is sinking for the beast and his fallen Angels like quicksand  
The Children Of The Sun our mountains are moved, society’s is just now beginning for your humanity, and it does not matter if you are a woman or man  
Walk and go in peace, tormented lost ones of the universe, you will need our spiritual mystique before, we need your mental void of darkness  
“My Queen, the King is on his way, they have you in radar range, stay clear  
“Thank you, my elders, as I humbly bow, I am perishing here.”  
Written by SweetKittyCat5
Published | Edited 22nd Apr 2023
Author's Note
Weather forecast for tonight: dark.

George Carlin
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