As Heathens Rage

Confiscating rainbows take them for the Loud.

Time drummed arrows hidden in the shroud.

See? They seize land, Sky, and water, turn them as a loan.

The Dreamers are all transits now, no space, place, or home.

“Who do you say you are?” The Old Magician casts his staff …

“Remember, ancient charmer, the one who sits and laughs?”

“Why vanity do they imagine, why do the heathen rage?”

Tell me keeper of the scrolls, as time turns the page.

How one thinks is how one is, deceivers know it plain,

Tells them what they want to here; their opiate for the pain.

Still, the Charmer’s magic snake, the budding rod consumes.

Remember, God is not dead, nor OCCUPIED is his tomb.

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