Same old life, same old town, 13 August ’26
They have spoken loudly today. The rage of a thousand lives beaming through my mind complex. A vessel employed for great discipline in order to experience great knowledge was set off on a quest for the missing links and the beautiful scriptures.
The codes to be learnt have been chosen, and the pieces have been set. They move slowly, but certain of the way.
.
Narrate, tell, pray
Where is justice in all that?
It is produced, made, built
Discourse is imperative
Power is not relative
Defence is hard
.
They who draw First Blood
Usually pass off as tough
They who take the blow
Are relegated to inferno
Higher than high
Lower than low
.
Astral’s good
But fuck the world
.
We’re only passing
But never through
Always on the run
Fuguing from the Sun
Round and round
And never found
The enemy grows quickly frustrated at the sight of that which does not follow rules and paradigms. They are more afraid of losing than they are willing to win.
.
For the fighting is scary and weary.
.
What have we learned today?
.
Slán go fóill,
Lee
.
