Who gave the temple keys to exterminator when Architect left town
as if we need to pretend no cyclical rhythm in Nature to be found
stampeding herds rushing the cliff to pied piper sickening siren song
all the while heavenly gifts flood down for those choosing to live life golden age long
nothing can be said, read or fed ignorant fear poisoned hearts
one's suffering silver thread to lift dead from flat line to restart
what if Architect trick disappearance test illusion All along
trusting corruption in place of Source fools us every time old way; wrong
only thing exterminator knows; spray, butcher cut, trap, train and war
germs don't exist in our terrain silly everything has a chore
primal wound cut and kept open intentionally, generationally from life start
stand tall with me now as we suture back each and every severed lost part.
Day Gun
I see those words alive and moving through the world, hopefully, touching many! Thank you!
Much gratitude, thank you! <3