Images of incineration interrupt
Infernal imagery imposes in intricate intervals, illegible to those ill with ignorance
Inadequate ideologies imply impoverish ways, never to be incriminated no matter how idiotic
Inattentive to our imaginary inflation issues
Improvident to the waste of industrial indispensables
Keep ignoring the impending invasion and downward inclination or intercept the intrusion on your intellect and intervene
Invent instinctively into your own invincibility
An influx of idiots with no positive incline, our inability to feel insults our intelligence
Intolerant insecurities about income and the "it" influences impair our inner insight
This IS an impeachment against the institutions for informing the incredulous and inciting the irrelevant
I will stand intrepidly, inheriting the impending inferno
Trump Was Corrupt and He Did Erupt
Again, Trump we would have to interrupt;
Searched records finding out he is corrupt,
Records disseminated;
Surely incriminated,
And just like Vesuvius had started to erupt.
Jim Horn
Approaching my magic 5,555.
Dozing off behind the wheel
Sleep-deprived decapitated
Dillaudid consequences
Incarcerate
Betrayed confidences
Incriminated
Responsibility blotted
Dead friends
Incinerated
In reality
They rotted
Alive.
Years prior to demise.
Burnt bridges. Dead ends.
A hell we created
Causality to impend
Insanity
A cyclic continuance
Doomed to repeat
Again and again.
Just more tragedy
Easily equated
Karmic
Punishment I deign
Education in pain.
Deliverance in suffering
Salvation
My moral
Bearing reign.
Controlled by one nation
Daisy Chain – Bottom line - capital gain
acid rain
Acrid – floral
Bought and sold
Artistic creation
Liquid – Forced oral
Ingestion
VIA TELEVISION
Visual vomit – soylent seduction
Initiate
Indoctrinate
inducted
Programmable People.
Hypnotic STATE.
Spell-bound
Too Late.
Reason insufficient, put no man above the law
And to instigate
To aid and abet in any form of hate
Is a fundamental conspiracy
Against his own exalted view
Of the savage transformed to deity by reason.
I cannot speak of St. Bartholome's massacre
But I know revulsion
For five females raped, the youngest only eight.
Blood drips from that philosophy
Without balm or cross
That by subtle argument construe
Men who knew the difference between wrong and right
Performed this gruesome deed by cover of night
I cannot trust the lofty exaltation
Of the savage and his barbarity to volition
Something more sinister and more dark
Something meaning that rebellion
A greater purpose than reason can opine
Is significant man's madness all the time
O Kant, I lay it at your door
Mal es el nombre primero
You are neither god nor with us
And its more than reason that you are dust
Death is no aesthetic illusion
But I have seen since the Enlightenment
Men crawling up and down in delusion
Finding scraps after scraps
All your freedom is anarchy
While they are strangled
In your brain numbing conspiracy
Exalting the fall to a greater throne.