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These are the ramblings
These are the ramblings of a man
Who spoke too clearly
To ever be true to himself
And this is the voice of the woman
Who was too happy
To admit to the sadness
Which had killed her so long ago.
Hearing the soulless
Who eat small souls for sport
Attesting to the virtue of soul
Like a God would condone our existence.
The devil questioned his father
Who spawned so many little demons
Who went on and on
Like Americans.
Arab poverty is blamed on western wealth
Arab kings speak of servants.
The President of Egypt would be King
But with his title
He does battle with the British colony
Which was his nation.
I can only assume
The next election will elect his son.
Caleb Carr writes mysteries
Of boy-whores.
And I am still searching for one.
It would be ironic
But fags search the same thing
In witness of the obvious
The obvious, which repeats
So that the specified
Is a genre of games
To blind people
Who would see themselves
If the eyes were strong enough for sight.
And if the preachers were strong enough
For a God who would rule
If a God took time to rule
Then perhaps we would be strong enough
To conquer the voice
Who speaks of Satan
As if he was crucified
For something other than his own sin.
