Thursday, June 8th 2017 – 10:51pm
…
“Blake and Black”
In the beginning, there was a bright light. When they smash your facade, it does not go red or black, but bathes your brains in a cooling white.
Stand aside, next to none, next to nothing, next to the crying version of yourself. Don’t worry, we will protect that little kid, both you and I. He looks familiar, doesn’t he? It’s our future movements they keep mirroring.
Blame it on my damage, but what is your malfunction, soldier? When did fortune forfeit your fruit from the tree of life, traded for the love of so called holy men confides and missing bona fides?
How warm is that tattered quilt at night? I gag on your dirty cups and laugh at her sister’s sideways looks. I never cared for the praise of men anyway. Please, take your broken legs and help yourself to mine on the way out.
Then he spake unto them in parables.
Elusive. Coy. Cute. Poor conduct for one of old holy summits, but you get used to the silence. We all miss Him and talk to Him every night and day.
I’ll be your weak thing. I’ll shame your drink tank with rants and visions. Our sort of think must be contained within the four walls of science or faith and you’ve yet to honor either.
The third refuge, a freedom I am not allowed to share with you.
Pat my back. Pat my head. Pat your knife instead. I’m happy to go love blind to your back burning deadly intent.
But my crew isn’t.
They’re always watching.
More than you.
You should learn to watch for me and the riders four.
We’re coming for you.
With Him.
And a vengeance.