deepundergroundpoetry.com

Crusader

Speak your narrative
Following in patterns of sensationalized sign language
Make it say what you want it to
When everybody’s sky is falling

Seasons of our relative apocalyptic delusions
I won’t doubt a wonder but I’ll call it what it is

Stretch the facts into the mold of what you want to see
What speaks to you may not say a word to me
But it’s “your truth”, it’s your cypher, it’s your “prophecy”

Loose translations, contorted interpretations
Twist the words just right to harbor the impact
Looking for incidental events
Selling fictions in the scope of a pitch to auction fear in tact

Are we under paranoia or attack
When all we see is moving shadows the light of all things is going black

When everything is a prop on the stage of another’s glory
You play the roles in which you cast yourself to tell the story

Scripted after perceptions of manipulated sways
Giving ammunition to the scoffers
When every generation makes its claim
We’re living in the end of days
Torn between liars and mockers
Anything to make a name

Unspecified dead lines
Doubtless are the true signs
But you’re reading into everything
Dancing beneath the spotlight
The limelight shadow of the eclipse

Crowing dawns at midnight
Deceptive it seems
Beat the heavens to the punch
Play for me your greatest hits
Till we’re living in your dreams
Passing off future telling on a hunch

I guess you’ll get it right one day
When roulette spins to gamble
Eventually the chamber will be loaded with a slug
When it’s the grand entrance of the ends preamble
Everyone is getting high on the lows of fabricated panic
Market the news like it’s a drug
Civil insomnia, the restlessness of a trending manic

Naked fashion statements
Recycling stylish ways to cry lamb like wolf as lion when wrath is the witching hour
Burning the world at the stake of the self righteous outpour
All for the lust of the drama and the power
Disbelief breeding in the grounds of reasons to doubt more

Hold your peace when your mouth is war, crusader
You’ve got an arsenal without any fire just weapons made of stones
As violence scores the orchestra of this world sick with groans…
Written by ClovenTongue34 (Nathaniel Peter)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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