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Fatred…

what is fate or hatred for that matter that it came comes crawling shadows castrating as much invigorating artistic visions beheld as much held within the catastrophe of the skull whose sparking flame burns those not willing to die for the experience Here crushed together as intermingling wads of supine gesture weaving a show of woe for the mass whose energy is quickly becoming the next wave sustaining aggravations into the future sublime generations of human cause grifting as the drifting answers by lies bequeathed decrees of the higher-ups shaking the trees for all their worth to vomit fruitions forth by genetic implementations a faster harvest before it all goes away too much sooner than we believe it can or will, where is the vibrancy as needed by the many forms let loose from the mental traps we keep set and ready for the prey left roaming too close as the wildernesses we cut down bewilder some of us to an unalterable destination realizing our decisions for what it is they create out of a dark questing as another lust aching in the gut torn out by impersonal exception broken by the travels that change the material value winding low against humans worth mashing into the grinding machine to glean a new artifact or artificial state of being project upon these singular troubles setting the whole scheme up, and killing the game that flows with such remedy as those flimsy ideas blown out by the wind in both extinguishing and spreading that divisive artifice that can cause facts to be faked by materialist deviants whom would rather see suffering rather than harmony as connection is that thing least cared about by some of those spiritual tramps would prefer tearing into confetti the rights to any freedom of choice that got such critters into seats of power… fate burns out the broken boughs fed to it through belief that some would consider a wasted pathway led astray by powers that could render one a force to be reckoned with walking into various circles of this honor-bound stuff we may see as respect though this can certainly be of very localized gifts achieved to which there is no counterpoint often in the midst another sacramental sentiment for those systems created sustained and retained by the remainder of those many reminded of the untainted that they say they witness even though questions yet unanswered hang offended until such a time is better in which work through solitary care in thoughtful respects one deserves for themselves and to those they wish to inspire, to be aware achieved as from thought to the rationale of execution gliding with surges of distinction from period to period that is not tracked necessarily by the posable attention and personal memory space of the individual as it is ritualized throughout an indefinite series of events we describe as the life chain mysterious as it is arousing to personally deal with this thing that manifests but does not explain what motives of compulsion propel it forward on into waters or winds as a decision under innocent auspices to take a hardened look at oneself before collaborating upon the ill-advised path if ever when luxury and privilege and prestige are all on the manifest as parts of the earned nuance of being being Here where none few spirits have dared, but still there a Mystery at every turn that may turn out lethal as a twist of the story beyond the literal perhaps occurs to change all of our fates by waves by chance and cracks the covers that hover just before a beginning and just after end…

Thanks, khet.