Stomp

supposition of self
keening, my sword of the spirit, razor-sharp
rubbed with venom, for the rusted day

I inspect my weapon
and yes Father my men are at attention

this is your war

internal, friendly fragging
please proceed to let Karma intervene
I'm wearing my combat boots
I will not step on your toes

your instrument of torture is sharp
still, I love him, I don't covet
they hang on my words
I don't mean to overshadow, with anger

it is deeply seeded my pain
my enemies are pushing my buttons
bare of soul I turn the other cheek and wait

dark matter is yours in everything and attending
no one will advance without your knowledge
I am guilty of taking vengeance in my own hands

pardon me Father vengeance is yours

so we proceed on the aether
and I have the tools you blessed me with
ready to stomp some ass

should you need me