Soul - Oh Heavenly Father... pt 1
what up.
my mothers hurt had begun, an outcast giving birth to a son
destined to change what the earth would become
as soon I kicked, the rumour caught wind, saints doomed her a witch
& tried to cover the abomination with a lunar eclipse
for the scary matter growing in her very abdomen
she was made a mere footnote like mary magdalene
suddenly the earth was black no accident a worthless action happening
the surface cracked & fragmented & immersed the shack we were packed up in
in a perfect fraction of maximum illumination, a man with a puny face
& a turkish accent & javelin grabbed herbal wrappings & acted then
found her full of vomit, she redeemed herself
screamed for help, the sounds were ultrasonic
as soon as he heard'em, my father entered
the room with the surgeon & extracted me from the womb of a virgin
I hungered souls of frightened soldiers, young or old, wonderful &
mighty sculptures crumbled so when thunderrolls and lightning bolts hit
all covered in darkness, while there were angels abducted
& volcanos erupted, emerged the star studded and heartless
half divine, half demonic, took my first breath
in the midst of blood, placenta & a splash of vomit
considered a morbid favourite of the pityful lord who made it
I licked the blood off my body, took my umbilical cord & ate it
the opposite of immaculate conception, a sacriligious weapon
the detached dracula collapsed muscles contracted every second
father was gaspin, struggled with catchin his breath & stared at this
inaccurate reflection of himself completely lackin of perfection
the blackness of my essence wasn't matching his complexion
a blasphamous bat was trapped in it's many anatomous deceptions
body so contorded, the film & audio recorded is probably so
distorted, you hardly know this ungodly show was preordained
clawlike nails, red pupils, eyes blacker than tar,
body tattered with scars my features are that of a god
the shattered facade concealed an intricate mess
anomalies inhibited the limited cest mimicing flesh, things that benefit death
a difficult task trying to keep my biblical wrath
visually masked behind a pityfully crafted physical mass
don't be afraid to say hi.
peace.
life is still a bitch....
but sometimes to unwind she lets me feel her tits.
|