A Time For Belief

 I will meet the press today, and I am not kidding.  I am the silver dollar in the desert that shines almost creating the most brilliant of mirages.  It is okay for me to be me.  I needed a day of silence yesterday.  I have never done that sequester before.  I left the phone to the stars, until it was unable to ignore.  Now I prepare to see what signs the media has with its programming for the politics of the land.  Mystical realities are still not being considered, on especially the left side of the isle.  On the right they acknowledge their hateful natures and they look away from being so righteous.  They are perfectly okay with not being logical and seemingly sane.  Facts are facts is the way the left plays the obo, not the violin.  Neither side is holy.  Accept your demonic already, and let us get effective.  Be with me in the rain.  I will rescue you and wash you clean, with glory upon glory.  Oh, the stories I can tell.  I will spin as I need to to keep my cover and stay quiet with my Pharaoh.   He is a channel and a mirror.  He does draw blood, but vampiric souls need to see that it does not scare me.  It is all part of knowing the truth in a time of the breaking ecstasy.  No one will bend toward the light today.  Never did Kelly green look like holy soldiers yesterday on the field.  Can you all see that it can all be part of a righteous war that brings about the kingdom of heaven.  There is so much peril there, including psychiatrically.  The depth of my heart is not free to share except in flowery phrases today.  I leap and spin on your graves today and mark the walls, not the halls, for justice.  It is two dimension, not three.  I desire to feel the glut of praise I deserve, but instead I feel your humiliation and loss.  It is a stasis of hate every day.  My dream catcher still catches the nasty electric carp.  I wish to see the marlin again, even in brackish water.  I praise all of you with comedy, and you bless me with grey resonance of fallen angels and souls without conscience.  You all are conscious of nothing.  Hallelujah, Jesus has died, and his eyes are MISTY.  Maybe he was death all along.  It is my world beyond this one that is coming through the gravity of the sun.  It is my kingdom come.  Play with dice on the street, and you may end up truly paralyzed today with no prophet at all.  I arrest your heart toady like a deer soarly mangled on Hwy 55 when I was blind to it all.  Its call was true suffering, but she was tired and ready to be free.  Animals will bow to me, as I walk away.  I do not ask them to experience hell, but they can choose nonexistence as well.  I am a nobody, talking about somebody.  Maybe today I will be believed.