Sold Out For Vince Suzadail

Sold Out The blogger screams And I trembling Naked before the fogless eyes Dangled like butcher's meat Stand on the auction block again, the mist of profits screening pain. Against the gavel rising and falling Leading bidders for my flesh speak superficial of my loveliness Orishas mangled in the history of my undoing Native faith betrayed by a foreign cross Emigrants hustled in the market of pain. Tomorrow we all shall reap the howl of coming misery Ontology broken as a vase on a strand of prophecy Debacling us in loneliness, nothing left to sell Itinerants of the global disaster Earn nothing from the learning of the dying market. Sold out: is the "it is done" of the cross Infinite wonder: profit and futures falling Nature nailing the arthrithic hands Gladly to the gallows of our grief I have known nothing built on innocent blood stands Neutral before the rope of justice God dangles from his branchless throne.