This is the end of everything you have ever known. Buried like vanquished reason,death is in season,driven like the drifting snow. Christ-like,whipped and weak painted nails driven through the meek; yet in obituary my dreams still weep of dark blood and the loss of a fetus. we are as flame born into darkness. Desires burning in palatial glades, and virtues once aloof; now worming beneath us. We shall see our children pleasuring as slaves. I have seen these fields where the un-wanted lay, fields of aborted fetuses. forced to move i walked one by one crunch by crunch it was a tolken of the discreet tecnique we've evoled to: Blood Or lust? Decipher ultraviolence through nightmarish life-styles. Instead of harking prophecies and how we long for freedom,face the facts like a deer faces the hunter: We are born to die by the hands of a self-loathing god. I say this for you all to read and except like i do "christ can not save" eating at your table for dinner and daily news say it to your sons, repent you side-show anomaly picket fenced in, bared by your own fear "the world you do not control" Lost in this World it is a tragic wreack-god is not who you think or what you think, you human. If you need me to pretend i will, I lack the pretence that drives you, These are the shores whereto my soul blood drenched and un-redeemed, so begins the sibilant world death-knell...The scars will last untill the stars, caught in the train bewitched, fall into line and yield the fall of a lost kingdom "grace" witnessing heavens tragic wreack that dawn is born to there eclipse. Judge not what your bible has to offer but ask what you bilbe does not offer.

Along time ago i felt a scence of bliss,i was young ingnorent and full of ideas that were pumped into me like a school full of freash minds. Soon i felt a long unease and made my way to what i now call reality. The text you read is not ment to break your blind faith it is mearly a eye opener to what you dont question or think possible. True-you decide i cant make that call for you i just put questions on the table for you to awnser as needed. Drop another moment like a needle on the caroet, tho the miniute pretends we live in it; we have not earned its respect. With every hour that goes by there is sixty let down's in it, Ive choked on a lie blaming a tormented sprit that walked away from hell for me. You to can find a freedom in the "why" but the awnsers you get may controll you.