PoeticalCondition

Shackled to a song Not even a Symphony Watching my mind soak in the notes Which I drown in fermented beverage For how else can I choke this verse Of all the plagues it has unleashed It is not done so that I can sing But to show that another song can be sung Yet if I must Sing I shall rise to the pulpit and conduct A hymn of pure silence Until I am inspired by my audience Waiting for this inspiration I shall hold my nations flag And let the cold winds of a Country bear down And grant mute audience to my Harmony Had us a laudable purpose I would have already been singing But as majesty would prevail I find myself enjoying the Darkness And watching all the trash Crumble away Like Kidney stones none of us need.

The dead are powerless to tell us what to do and the living are struggling just to make it through Meanwhile the ragtag angels scour our alleyways searching for food Everything is so terribly bright in the middle of yet, another lonely night I look at the clock but it has no face its hands are gone It’s ashamed of how its invention has caused such harm I am too There’s some Liquid-Drano in the cabinet I consider shooting it into my vein Then I remember asylums can only be altered but never really changed I gaze out a window and I see the assassin is near He stares up at the sun but instead seeing the moon Laughs to himself and says: “Oh, my I’m way too soon” Listlessly, I drift out of my body down the stairs There’s an old man in a chair He cuts out his entrails and sadly states: "It's the best I can do, so please try to relate” I splash scorching acid in my eyes as if it could serve as some disguise Voices drift by on a breeze telling me it’s almost morning and I’ve got to

Jormungand, the world serpent, uncoiling the ‘workings’ of the world [the seas] [reference; the ‘current’ mechanisms of the world (internet, technology, economy, etc)] Maintains by completing a circle by biting his tail, keeping the waters from running off. Bull’s Head The head of [current] civilization, Thor possibly used this to see if he could fish up the world serpent. Thor, seeking the world serpent, uses this severed head to fish for jourmungand. The world serpent is revealed, but the Seas become calamitous [big changes, very quickly] [serpent revealed, admin access!] [calamitous seas, the workings of the world are observed to be in peril. Or at least could use a tune up.] The Bulls head, and Thors ability are no match for chance, the hook is dislodged, the bait is lost and jourmungand slithers calmly back into the sea. The Seas themselves are calm once more. Oh, time to raise another Bull too, that one is kinda not here anymore. 😊

He brews under a full moon in a circle of salt. Pearl dust and asphodel infused with lavender and magic and bound with honey. A sprinkle of starthistle and cinnamon, the incantation whispered, his elixir complete. He visits the greenhouse that very night moonlight plentiful and bright to harvest fresh silverweed and thyme. Then to the forest he walks in search of bloodroot moonstone, and midnight blooming foxglove. His cauldron awaits. Belladonna and bone soaked then steeped in a mixture of fairy wings, rosewater and a drop of wormwood essence. Mulling the concoction until a fine mist rises and sparkles. Decanted his potions shimmer, vials of the unimaginable, the impossible- liquid luck shrouded in gold, the swirling scarlet of love, the amber hued solution that will.. bend the will of the drinker… to his. He stands back a moment, smiling to himself, at his creations, gleaming in the torchlight, luminous in their perfection. His tools to enchant, to intoxicate and ensnare.

Eaten churches Soul-altering fetishism Human meat filling clear pipes Artistic cultists corrupting the prime species False and catastrophic accusations You press the splinters of the suffering and creative deeper into Their flesh to use their screams for music and Their blood for shitty tattoos So, take those empty urns out of the closet and donate them to The minorities you want to fucking slaughter Pluck the hypocrisy from dicks and pussies The world you want is boring as hell Get used to living near rainbows, gothic nightclubs, And film festivals that feature directors from other countries Embracing diversity will make life so much more enjoyable Those stories are cutting your kids But if that happens, that means you Have a project to work on Great for you, but terrible for them