Radiation Will Be The Judge To Which You Will Testify

Sour Objection

Such is my dilemma, searching for peace that prophets speak of,
My eyes deserve to be gouged,
it would grant me immunity from outward depravity
slave-labor thought manufacturers,
sweating and bleeding over the typewriters,
so hyped on releasing their truth,
so intent on convincing you.
that your vocal chords perform
“watch out for the terrorstorm, the boogey men hide in dark alleyways”
The blatant liars do not sway my formidable will
Strength resides in numbers
Persistance resides in heart beats
As the conquistadors march,
heavy hooves trumping crops and cradles
uniforms stiff and starched
killing all with will and ability
Subvert those too forlorn to be saved,
But it is you, not i, the slave
My body does not accept fear and frost,
the only one glowsticking in your propagandistic rave

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