The Prophesy of Me

These Hallowed halls Frequented by myth and griffin Whose presence Guards these priceless minds Protecting the unwritten novels M C Squared and ingenious thoughts The prophesy of zero one This gluttony of ideas thirsting on capitalisms juice Summoning their messiahs to walk among us The commodities of life, this treasured bible Children the future and Capitalism dissects, Yet Another batch of disciples So what care I for prophets of doom Population before climate Religion over peace Vanity before reason Pride over poverty Cap and gown before that which created me For I live high above these ghetto streets Yet my peace is drowned by Evening chorus Screams from the gutter Another tattoo and the rush of heroin Another type of messiah Something for the poor to believe in Just another nickel and dime resource to me Yet to hear this is a damnation of me This arrogance over nature To control that thing That shackles our existence That jails our thoughts Prostitutes our freedom And lets us die without reason This way of life Of poverty and desperation Of concrete and aborted foetus Of welfare cheques and sex for sale Of unhappy beings behind Unhappy doors Protecting their own portals of betrayal In a private subjugated hell For Compassion has left these mortal beings And my mind is closed, for there is no profit for me But conscience is my jury And nailed to this holy cross The verdict is written Vermin under the butterfly For compassion was never my thing? And Human nature can be, A most desperate thing.