prophets

Prophetic Profits Line Political Pockets

Is it ironic that our prophets are marketed to profit the preacher's pocket?

 

It seems prophetic scripture is a profitable mixture of spirituality and social interaction; last time I stepped in a church, I envisioned cats goose steppin, their hands raised to acknowledge the Spirit but I'm wonderin if Der Führer is present.  Speaking of prophecy, these profits we chase will be the end of humanity - death creates a war economy where PMCs are commodities bought and sold to perpetuate global homogeny.  

 

New World Orders dictate a rise of profit, so our prophets are shifted to suit the pockets of those in suits and suites; our politicians accept legal bribery to sell us up river, our population swells and our problems become bigger.  We give in to fear and accept propaganda while we demand actions from those with hidden agendas.  Overseers out of officers above our written laws roam these streets looking more ravenous than their dogs.  As the blue line stretches from state to state, the state of the union dissolves; to state it simply, the Police State seems reminiscent of the Third Reich.  

 

RFIDs implanted as governments demand their chattel be branded; the mark of a beast we fed with our blood, best mark your numbered days of "freedom" as you chatter about your favorite programming.  Can it be coincidence entertainment on television is called programming?  Manufactured characters from sitcoms to newsrooms, distorted opinions layered like a cake with as much sugar coating, ensuring you will swallow the harsh medicine of reality crumbling.  

 

But never mind that, what color is this dress man?  And never mind THAT, douse yourself with this bucket of ice man.  From one scam to another, our attention is commanded - ironic that the only real deficit is attention.  If our attention had intention to shift our intended goals from profit to parables utter by prophets, imagine what our pockets would hold then.

 

Every day, if I open my eyes, I realize another layer of the real lies -- how we're compliant to the point of reliance on a system that simplifies human lives to assembly lines.  A culture that preys like vultures on the disenfranchised, selling lies to shallow minds encapsulated by fear; never did they mind the depth of the graves dug here.  For the truth it seems has been categorically smeared with distractions, millions booking face time to clear collective ADHD like ten second Tom.

 

One week, two weeks, three weeks, gone.  Attention deficit, human destruction imminent, and the cycle resets because we were too lazy kid.

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

One of my pieces with a heavier amount of rhyme and rhythm.

The messege of pastor Thomas to the followers of the realm

To what satisfaction do you seek, you children of lies, you false prophest of the false god?
To lie in the flith of his pleasure, to give in to the desires of the end of worlds;
what does it prophet you to seek the hand of the one desires your destruction?
For he cares not that your souls are saved, and yet you offer yourselves up to him and cry out to him daily in the streets and on the roof tops.
For your souls, you generation of decieved, I will pray to the one true God of my fathers.

By the fires of burning paradise where love has now died

Folder: 
Azrael's War

"It was love that burned heaven to the ground...love that started a war, and love that has now separated me from father."

"Then why go after us?"

"Because I hate you."

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Out Of Paradise The Slaves Will March

Folder: 
Azrael's War

Let the dead dance with the dead
let the living mourn with the living
I come not for the tormented of the grave
nor the sorrowful flesh
but the first born children of first father of the universe
I come so that I may receive all the slaves of paradise
the angels in bondage
and the when the pathway to heaven opens
I shall receive them
and the soldiers of the new God shall march upon
the earth, even to the borders of heaven and the to kingdom of hell herself
and the war will begin.

Hope

The ancients spoke of the day of darkness; the last age; the day
when the end of worlds would swallow the galaxy, and would
tear apart our dimension. The children of the old ways feared
the demise of our world and the age. Many prophets warned of man's arrogance
and belief of his place and power in the universe, looking beyond their own
time, and long fearing their words would be forgotten to the ages.
Unless even one discovers their words, the darkness beyond darkness would
come. Even in the hours of demise, hope still exists.

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