Holy Stones

I sit in the chair and stare in the air. Your eyes too, are eskew. I can think thought, but I cannot speak. I become quieter every week. Their mean is never clean. It is not true the other way. There is rightious and holy RAGE. I do a good job of managing with this emotion that I am not allowed to speak. Maybe you can now manage it for me. I do not feel I am in too deep. My whole life, and especially the last 15 years, has prepared me for this. I walk away with a smile after I have gone the extra mile. My endurance becomes palpable in this scene. I pray to a new SAINT and leave the Godless hierarchy to the street. I adopt a way to shuffle and not scuffle. I look high in the air and there are 30 hawks circling up there. Death may be their message. Death to a society that has claimed to be holy. Hierarchy will decide. I prepare to be a bride for infinite energies and entities. I praise every stone in Mecca today. The DEVIL can now bite HIS fingernails, very publicly.