enough about me, tell me about u and all incantations calling forth this day
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the voices of elders who seem 2do no more than damn us 2 our childishways,for in many households,wisdom no longer comes with age,so were is that voice from nowhere?that burning bush?that passing dove?i hear voices of generals calling for ammunition, voices of women calling for help,but where is that voice from nowhere?that god of abraham?those crying rocks?can he b heard over the whizz of passing missles the cries of children, the crack of bones the shriek of sirens or is that his mighty voice?your angry god craving sacrifice of a virgins generation's son degenerate,your holy books:written in red ink on burning sands,branded into necks,whipped into backs,forced inside vaginas and anuses!your prayers between rounds do no more than fasten the fate of your children 2 the hammered truth of your trigger.the dummy that sits on your lapis no longer a worthwhile spectacle,we have spotted your moving lips and have pinned the voice to its proper source,it is a source of madness,your weapons are phallic,ALL OF THEM