If you can keep your head when all about you people are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when everyone doubts you, but make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating, and yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise,
If you can dream and not make dreams your master,
If you can think and not make thoughts your aim,

Mission Occident
Capital shifting intent
Illegal torment

shuttered exits
only exist in nightmares

head-high weeds are sprouts
to a fence of knowledge

the problem with real
is its reliance on reality

the young and the new
are the secrets of entryism

you aren't ill even if you're sick
until you begin to lose confidence

Since shepherds had turned wolves,
devouring they own sheep,
then I better remain a sheep of myself.

Since the truth has been enslaved,
And the apron of Christianity is now a commodity
Juicing tasty venoms for the souls
I rather become a sheep of myself

It’s the eye we see,
The mind is hidden
tell the deer to run while the lion is asleep
Before the grave yawns hungrily
Sheepishly they accept the faith
The quest for miracles and signs
A prophecy long foretold.

The two lone souls bound by a common aim
united for mutual benefit
this end pursued by agreement tacit
with a burning desire to attain fame
towards this very purpose primary
coloured by overarching, blinding zeal
utilizing a beg, borrow or steal
approach to combat any quandary
celebrating victories progressive
buoyed by dawning realization
that their rule was preordained destiny
employed tactics corrupt and coercive
more levels of rationalization
serial crimes lead to ignominy.

With shift paradigm
waning wilting wintertime
shining star turns prime

War crimes court cases
Not just weak nations basis
Start all states phases

.
i met her up on brandon hill
her chin stuck forth like a windowsill
such were the squareness of her jaw
and she had but one other flaw
garbed in gothic head to toe
she prattled like a throttled crow

nor did her barbed-wire hair entice
nor blackened eyes that looked me twice
yet compensation were enjoyed
observing how her bosom buoyed
and to this day i do not know
the tag bestowed this rasping crow.
.
.

every drop in the ocean
i'm walking on truth,
on the coals of regret,
the odd broken tooth.

it helps fill the gaps
on one poet's corner
where i showered you flowers
and toed with the fauna

as they licked my arse
'cause that's how it goes.
we may weigh our winters
by a drip on the nose.

When you feel askew
wait and perform a review
to succeed anew.