Two bones lying in the cradle of civilization.
A city dying under the weight of its own destruction of intellectual gestation.
Just like an individual injecting heroin
the stars of such skies.
Become hard to chart,
Endless cries of ancient times,
Come up from the now dried waters of the Pison and the Gia.
I guess this is the right time.
That was assuming Hegel was right,
Standing in the library,
looking out at the strands of smog,
and fog that clogs,
this is every day,
stuck in Nightmarish ways.
Mr. Qutb did not like the way they smoked and drank and played.
A perfect time for a switch in the apocryphal, a revolutionary change.
A peaceful procession of the marchers.
With the new market trend.
Set things up for a while,
Slumped over in the darkened house.
The pictures on the wall,
show old individuals,
with dark frowns.
The opiate like conditions,
The Lady in White,
dances in the sky.
They continue drinking wine,
Now is the right time
You good men.
You have a moral duty,
to fight them.
"You must understand, this is a cosmic battle between supernatural forces."
You have a duty,
They will take your pills,
For they only see the exoteric.
Mr. Strauss thought he saw the esoteric.
"No, I can't go back and get them, they might kill me. It's too much of a vision. They've looked at the wall for too long. I need to keep this and use this, this is mine. The others, they get drunk off of wine, I have to stop it. They can't control themselves."
The sun has been extinguished
This being passive,
and just consuming black skeletons.
Has killed us.
Of course, blame them.
They have poisoned us.
With their beasts and horns.
"Our conscious and morality,
the lock has been well worn.
We must lay dormant,
be dark as night.
And then they will become war torn,
and stuck in a freezing fright.
will collapse under its own might."
I have seen your light.
Hissing Lear jets.
Taking away all of your frets.
I am God's Warrior.
I am Immanuel Kant.
I know the truth of the esoteric thought.
I don't care how many dead.
This is the right way which we lead.
We must be filled with dread, we must protect ourselves against them.
You wanted to change, you want to exist in that change
They turned you into their own firing range.
On your own blood.
In your case.
In the woods,
not a sign of life,
Perhaps one should have brought a knife.
Just for preservation of life.
A Black Sun and Moon,
merge in the sky,
further darkening the night.
And a Perfect Lawn.
Is not right.
The Lady in Black kills the Lady in White.
I've seen your black and white.