For the poets and songmakers, wordsmiths, the time is now to create new myths.~Victoria Stuart
Song lyrics infected by calls to sky
gods who in demented rage burn the eyes
in their scorched earth demand for praise. The gist
is: kill your mother. Genocidal twist
with rhymes and meters meant to stultify.
I dig through transcripts written by the scribes
who administered oaths and gathered lies
piled on so thick, they all give up and tithe
to buy their way out of this hellish space
illusion has declared exists. No place
is safe, the remedy comes from without.
Or so they say. I parse, allow the doubt
to surface and to flee. Now empowered
I've booted the cowards. Allow flowers
inspired from a new mythos: Sophia
songs composing grounded into Gaia.
When we realize the extent to which
ancient powers have been bent, we invent
new ways to convey the inner knowing
casting aside the lies mind-cults are flowing.
Written for these prompts: Transcript, Inspired Carpet and Tithe.
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