Cracked hellscapes of broken-time fires

Forgetful stars

Broken glass and shattered chrome pieces.

Humanity is the blind spot where evil takes shape.

Lost stars shine upon sick cities,

Factories of pain and desolation

Left to crumble by their oil-slicked graces.

Laid low to pursue rotting dreams in the agonies of night.

Glazed-eyed zombie folk wander around the rotted circus of the city.

No light here, only a thousand cars whizzing past,

Lust abstraction dances with horrid truth.

Spiro-technic delirium faces the frontier of time.

Delusional glass organum sounds in multiple resonant frequencies.

Hopeless bliss in the catatonic future.

Crystal mazes bombed to shreds

By the forces of property and sobriety.

Forged identity cracks as slipping data stream.

No future but none

Forever as one.

A multiplicity of conspiratorial silence.

The real tradition they don’t tell you

is to love thy neighbor

fight for the liberation of the oppressed

like the holy war it is

when no more camels can pass through the eyes of needles

and the dust settles

will your legacy be conformity

to the demons of materialism

or the joyful noise of angelic choirs?

radiant clarity courses through

the hearts of the humble

understanding love as a divine gift

pure of heart

standing in the mud and trash

imperfect yet blessed

The closer to the most accurate conception of God you get, the closer you get to the concept of pure information in its broadest sense.

in negative language of others, there only exists a materialist song .

Transcend a loss of what self might be,spoken from, speak not.

For the right work of self to whatever end, requires a contrary example

Of focused community rest and to be whatexample we have which comes through

Is can fellowship two but yet of really one… we

we of the with of greater I is as or

I merely think of negative or the asking now,

meaning our one significance … of our work on the Paradoxical and ourselves and what lasts is contrary until only the nothings it in for the sober, focused dream, which told terror of whatever routine

In the God language there lasts something even without sexuality

A greater positive as communicating the right reign of these spontaneous substances

We’re up only reclaiming to live

With creativity this comes in collectively told language. Nothing submits but to create the contrary

What'd we learn from online unnatural significance manifests in what we want; some part of ourselves is divine… speak then speak truth

For our fellowship reclaiming the intuitive, the horizonsand I Spontaneous I with others in discipline

To foster the creativity of living reality without labels, which we perceive as nervous until we are through existence’s great limitations.