deepundergroundpoetry.com
holy lucre
I am the false prophet
you can identify me by the flaws in my facade
this white hood barely covers the cracks in my skull
where ram's horns are trying protrude
and the these white robes bulging in the back
where black wings are growing
(a black women ran screaming as the sky opened up)
(and the heavens cried)
how ever the outcome
we will split the prophet
you can identify me by the flaws in my facade
this white hood barely covers the cracks in my skull
where ram's horns are trying protrude
and the these white robes bulging in the back
where black wings are growing
(a black women ran screaming as the sky opened up)
(and the heavens cried)
how ever the outcome
we will split the prophet
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