Prayers For Atheists - Lot's Wife

In the beginning, indigenas called it mystic, an instinct the instant they saw ships in the distance. A glimpse in the storm's pigment when Indians crossed pilgrims... Predicted the gift horse lip sync would turn course'n switch swords mid-swing before swindling Christians swiveled long pistols, insisting they bought Plymouth with trinkets and malt liquor. Pawned resource for sickness, syphilis brought and forced women. Idiot wind minions twisting lost wisdom to false scripture, a million moths caught in the maw of a king fisher. Drawn to village torches' flicker; how quickly the fickle applaud n' witness ritualistic displays of public discipline, oblivious to all difference in crucifixion n' lawn picnics. Gory cinema for a pittance; glory, grizzly sinister law's attrition. The city of lost children is a chrysalis born stilted with umbilical thorns twisting round the trinity's lost sibling, inequipped to fill his bosses' slippers in a pinch, now wished he missed the audition. Gone limp too late to rescind and abort mission. Ligaments ripped and torn sinew, glistening whips, cords, and thistle; the friction of raw tissue till it splits n' pours crimson - a dead carpenter's cloth skin stripped; pity the cross killed him... ...King Fisher, KING FISHER! your scream stones lifted, but didn't skip the walls of this building... Listen! They still in the floor chillin'; frost beneath boards, spirit forced to watch the fall of the living... Live water tortured; rise above these ...
Video Rating: 5 / 5