Птица счастья?
Или птица зла?
К чему же эти
крайности..
когда есть
серединка
сладкая?

Самое вкусное
всегда
посерединочке
живёт..
к примеру, вот,
допустим,
бутерброд!

Посередине
колбаса
(столичная),
зелёный лист
салата,
и красный томат.
Но по краям-то,
хлеб земной..
любому дураку
известно что
всему он
голова.

А хлеб небесный
в магазине …

You are excused..
And I’m not
your bruh.

Fourth Horseman’s
what they call me,
and my horse is high
enough for me
to wanna mog.

Maxxing out my
neural phase
space frame
rate, and my
meta’s on
another
level of this
language
game.

But excuse
my Broca …

The purpose
of a lighthouse
isn’t pulling
drowning sailors
out of Water.

It’s not to point
prospecting
privateers
to ancient
treasures,
long forgotten.

It’s not to keep
your room well-lit
or make it easier
for you to read
at night.

The purpose
of a lighthouse
is to …

When
the floodgates
open,
who shall still
be there?

Who shall maintain
their head
above The Water
level to
receive a gasp
of air?

Who shall survive,
and who shall just
give in and drown?

Why are you asking
all these questions
to this regal clown?

Time flies, indeed,
like an arrow.
Circling itself
in knots.

Arrowheads
are the needles
of present.

Shafts of thread
that they
weave with
are us.

The archers
who shoot
are our fates.
The tapestry’s
fabric is God.

What is
Death then?
In truth..
really nothing.
Where
our string has …

What good
is dinner
if you do not
reach
dessert?

Good nourishment.
That’s why not
every time
we eat
the sweet
is served.

Indeed,
it is the meat
and beans
that meets
The All of your
nutritional
requirements..
after singing
your good graces
to Almighty God.

The sugary
delight …

Voices that whisper
in my head
are telling me
I’m done.
That I’ve
already
won.

Why don’t I feel it
yet though?
Are they lying to me?
Could it be
I was misled
instead of
Chosen One?

Truth is..
I couldn’t be misled
of this.. I …

How could you
ever know
The Truth..
if it arrives
to you by
proxy?

Perhaps I am
a bad man..
A misleader
of the youths.
A narcissist.
Whatever
rhymes with
toxic.

The Truth is..
I don’t give
a fuck,
whether
or not
you choose
to disbelieve.

The All of …

Who doesn’t wish
to hold The Will
to power
of The Elder Gods
within their hands?

Much fewer
wish to carry
weight of fate
The All of Them
were damned
to suffer
on behalf
of us
as well.

For countless eons,
non-existence
that preceded us
to Them..
The many …

Speak of
The Devil
and she
shall appear.

From where
do I know her?
How far or
how near?

Maybe,
at one point,
we met
in some Life.

Before
you were you
and before
Eye was I.

Time did
its trickiest
treat on
The All
of us,
friend.

One skill …