Courage

I’m tired I’m disellusioned I’m regretful …but I’ll keep fighting

Coptic

Let the oppressor’s marklight upon your back,it is the creator’s sun that shines within the darkand the scolding unmerited will but a season.

The liar’s pants are not on fire

The man flows through the doorand the liar’s scent is expensivehe wears his gorgeous wife beside and its all Haute couturewith devilish charm ready to violate another – it’s repulsive! The man’s tongue is slick and slipperythe liar glides through deceit nonchalant,he has devoured countless victims at this arenawith stature arrogantly aloof as a night

I saw GOD in the slums

All men claim to know Godevangelicals write books about itAmerican churches have it that they know the system,but I saw GOD the other day with drug addicts and whores. The cities are full of aristocratsand they see their heaped money as validation about itbut Christians in cities are greedy liars, salivating over the Jesus commerce,I

Mechanized horses

v formation twelve valvesturbo charge natural aspirated,with sequential gearboxesour mountains of mechanized performance like tidal waves Pharoah wishes he had horses like theseillustrious the tales and magnificent those beasts,modern man’s mechanized horses roarlike the demons locked up in Tarsus Mans horses can run faster and never tirethey just smolder within their lungs like hell itself,man