Reptiles.

Frenetic bastion of lies and pseudo-science.

Clawing against the tides of objectivism in the name of inclusivity.

No longer a complex thought formed in their brains.

Socio-economics of the city.

Sell you an ideology for a buck fifty.

Budget beliefs and all that nitty gritty.

I’ve strayed from politics because of too many circle-jerks full of dicks.

Useful pricks pandering to minorities to keep the rich; rich.

When most don’t even know what a minority is.

Not because it’s the right thing to do, not because we thought it through.

Lose your sense of self-worth if it means more brownie points; or more like a shit stew.

I hate watching these putz-gnashers chew.

Malignant tumor people; choking on the refuse.

Basing their entire personas on whether they’re red, white, black, or blue.

Got no time to waste on the likes of you.

Bullets with names on them, black book games and a shameless promise.

Got them pissing in fear because there’s too many of us.

But propaganda still keeps too many good folks on the cusp.

The crusty old reptiles got it all; they’re making fun of you.

When it comes the time to purify you’re gonna have to choose.

They want you to live in a pod and eat bugs, take and take; until you’ve got nothing to lose.

I hope you value your life and your agenda when it comes time to shoot.

Because they love to multiply and feed off of you.

Poor kids they’ve lost their innocence, a maze of pink and blue drama to steal their natural hue and replace it with ignorance.

Tell them they can’t be on the fence when they’re not even wise enough to see through a moral lens.

Pretense and common sense out the window where the so called extremists send their regards; many going with them; jumping to their deaths.

Suicide a better option than the opportunities presented.

Too many afraid to stand up to defend them; from these freaks and predators looking to shape and blend them.

The lengths they’ll go to is really mind-bending.

I think it’s time to lend a hand and join the call; before the madness descends upon them all.

The crusty old reptiles got it all; they’re making fun of you.

When it comes the time to purify you’re gonna have to choose.

They want you to live in a pod and eat bugs, take and take; until you’ve got nothing to lose.

I hope you value your life and your agenda when it comes time to shoot.

Because they love to multiply and feed off of you.

Slithering tongue, skin like cracked leather.

Gerry-manderer, jury-rigger; depends on the weather.

Cyanide capsules and enough cocaine to last forever.

Drug and rape fueled dictatorship, head severed by their brainwashed professors.

I used to be like that, but I’m no bold confessor.

Though no shame or regret for my past, I learned a lot and I’m no longer an oppresser.

It makes you feel better, scarlet letter; call it a depressor.

Though you know it’s just the calm before the fall.

The crusty old reptiles got it all; they’re making fun of you.

When it comes the time to purify you’re gonna have to choose.

They want you to live in a pod and eat bugs, take and take; until you’ve got nothing to lose.

I hope you value your life and your agenda when it comes time to shoot.

Because they love to multiply and feed off of you.

Reptiles.

Frenetic bastion of lies and pseudo-science.

Clawing against the tides of objectivism.

Reptiles.

They love to feed off of you.

It’s time to wise up and do what you have to do. –Michael Kabu Ament

Morning Glory.

I have become a morning glory.

With ages come changes; it’s the same old story.

I have lived it over and over again.

The taste of fermentation lingers.

I wish I could possess the chords beneath my fingers.

One with unrequited lovers and light bringers.

Meditative my waters, holy waters; uplifting.

Infinite extension of my burning cigarette, breathe it in; draw it in.

A destination unknown, second hand; third eye of sold souls.

Dance upon the edge of hallowed ground; respectfully.

I have lost my mind and death has stolen my heart as the sun reaches its crest in the sky, great mother need not know why.

Restitution, reparation, sullied truth; excavation.

Dig down deep; you’ll find it there.

Between the roots of juniper fair.

Blood is racing.

Veins are ancient.

Angels are pacing.

Languorous my grave sins.

It’s not as if I choose it.

Restitution, reparation, sullied truth; excavation.

Dig down deep; you’ll find it there.

Between the roots of juniper fair.

Lo and behold, below in the grove; arove my cloven hooves.

Chosen to hold boldly the chalice of a thousand youths reproved uncouth.

Lost in time, no place to hide; as if there were a need to.

Chest is burning; breathing is shallow.

Sallow and callow; kneeling before the gallows.

Cuidado; skeletons lurk in my shadow.

Even vampires like me bleed too.

White noise of rain fills my ears and lulls me into sleep.

Visions of cold tundra winds into my mind will seep.

Wandering between worlds and words we forget so brazenly.

Flow of consciousness steadily we feed.

There is always a desire hidden beneath our every need.

It’s not as if we choose it.

Restitution, reparation, sullied truth; excavation.

Dig down deep; you’ll find it there.

Between the roots of juniper fair.

I have become a morning glory.

With ages come changes; it’s the same old story.

I have lived it over and over again.

The taste of fermentation lingers.

I wish I could possess the chords beneath my fingers.

One with unrequited lovers and light bringers.

Meditative my waters, holy waters; uplifting.

Infinite extension of my burning cigarette, breathe it in; draw it in.

A destination unknown, second hand; third eye of sold souls.

I have lost my mind and death has stolen my heart as the sun reaches its crest in the sky, it is not an illusion.

Restitution, reparation, sullied truth; excavation.

Dig down deep; you’ll find it there.

Between the roots of juniper fair.

Blood is racing.

Veins are ancient.

Angels are pacing.

Languorous my grave sins.

It’s not as if I choose it.

Restitution, reparation, sullied truth; excavation.

Dig down deep; you’ll find it there.

Between the roots of juniper fair.

I have become a morning glory.

Dig down deep; you’ll find it there.

Between the roots of juniper fair. –Michael Kabu Ament

A hill to die on. (Hindsight 20/20)

It’s a hill to die on.

It’s something you can rely on.

It’s a brand new suit to try on.

It’s a shoulder to cry on.

We’ll never comply don.

We’ll never fall for your lies con.

Yow mon, wat a gwaan?

Yeah, let’s have some fun with it.

Yeah, let’s alight the sun and feel it.

Yeah, let’s capture a sight and fill it.

Yeah, let’s stand up for our rights and kill it.

Masters of the rising lunar entity.

Stalking the streets at night, trying to find some feta cheese.

Always saying thank you, but never please.

Take whatever you want, whatever frees.

Hello, yellow belly fellow; it’s time to fall in line.

Hello, shout and bellow; we’re gonna be flying.

Hindsight 20/20 we were never trying to be cool.

Too cool for school.

Scrying the future; it’s the king of cups and the fool.

Rounding up the integers.

A globalist conspiracy like Soros, the Kissingers, Rothschilds, and abrahamic herds.

Don’t be offended you know they’re all swindlers and malingerers. Diaspora, and the children of the aurora.

Be careful of the flora you get high on because..

It’s a hill to die on.

It’s something you can rely on.

It’s a brand new suit to try on.

It’s a shoulder to cry on.

We’ll never comply don.

We’ll never fall for your lies con.

Every hoe have dem stik a bush and de olda de moon, de brighter it shines.

Sheesh.

It isn’t complicated like Homer and Odysseus on the seven seas. Don’t confuse my rhetoric I ain’t no npc.

Forget about what they tell you and never misnomer me; I’ve got more going on between two brain cells than they have from their heads to their feet.

Fortunes bless my soul eternally.

Godly order of the afterglow.

Ab chao.

Definitive.

Known to take the narrow road.

Prideful.

Unabated.

Sophist and cold.

We all know luck favors the bold.

Banded together; revolution comes tenfold.

Looking ever higher we build a tower of gold.

Opening the portals with our music and scattering those ions because..

It’s a hill to die on.

It’s something you can rely on.

It’s a brand new suit to try on.

It’s a shoulder to cry on.

We’ll never comply don.

We’ll never fall for your lies con.

Masters of the rising lunar entity.

Stalking the streets at night, trying to find some feta cheese.

Always saying thank you, but never please.

Take whatever you want, whatever frees.

Hindsight 20/20 we were never trying to be cool.

Too cool for school.

Scrying the future; it’s the king of cups and the fool.

It’s a hill to die on.

It’s something you can rely on.

It’s a brand new suit to try on.

It’s a shoulder to cry on.

We’ll never comply don.

We’ll never fall for your lies con.

Take whatever you want, whatever frees.

Hindsight 20/20. –Michael Kabu Ament

Figures.

Everyone around me is dead.

Gotta stop wishing that.

Spook like the feds; tit for tat.

Ab crippin blood like a disciple, what a figure.

Censor that.

Half a life without pulling the trigger; that’s the facts.

Gotta stop trying to find intelligence in people cause you’ll be sorely disappointed.

Feeling the cost and the hate through the people they appointed. Baptism in fire and dirtied blood their children are anointed.

Questioning yourself you’re happy having nothing.

You lost what it means to be human and that was never the point man.

Geld yourself trying to find a sense of purpose.

Lined against the wall you thought they would never hurt us.

Like a communist regime; thought crimes and empty purses.

The resistance only grows stronger as the situation worsens.

God help us, we’re all dictators; violating each other.

One man’s trash, another’s treasure; even though it’s all clutter.

Ideology and consumer technology I mean.

Your value determined by your rapsheet and your green.

Working under austerity; fracturing your spleen.

You’ll never find the answers; what could it all mean?

In this nightmare trying to become a fisher of men.

Spending days and nights locked away with a shit eating grin.

Slave to the system.

Little do they know I got bottles of piss and vinegar for that.

Everyone around me is dead.

Gotta stop wishing that.

Spook like the feds; tit for tat.

Ab crippin blood like a disciple, what a figure.

Censor that.

Half a life without pulling the trigger; that’s the facts.

Would rather be a slave to myself than a slave to the world.

Evil spells and wicked churl’s.

Grand wizard’s machinations come unfurled.

Caught in a whorl laying swines before pearls.

Praying every day to iron out the burls.

Walking in their shoes to find where the cleverness comes from.

Disillusioned by the outcome; discovering most are way dumb.

High on alcohol, nicotine, and kratom.

Better drugs but the degenerates lace them; with fentanyl.

Fucking murderers deserve life in prison.

Where the hell did we go wrong with the youth of today; a defined lack of morals, irreversible surgeries, and botulism.

And protected pedophiles; just fucking great.

I thank God every time I’m able to see through to the misery.

If you’re helpless and lost just look to history.

Centuries of corruption and violence; it ain’t no fucking mystery.

A specific race behind it all, but if I mention who they’ll just up and cancel me.

Someone convince me not to burn it all with gasoline.

Like a monk feeling dread performing his own cremation ghat.

Everyone around me is dead.

Gotta stop wishing that.

Spook like the feds; tit for tat.

Ab crippin blood like a disciple, what a figure.

Censor that.

Half a life without pulling the trigger; that’s the facts.

But I’m doing it now, bang bang, crack crack.

Talking slang slang, and gang gang; you’re fucking whack.

Ab crippin blood like a disciple, what a figure.

Censor that.

Baptism in fire and dirtied blood their children are anointed.

Questioning yourself you’re happy having nothing.

You lost what it means to be human and that was never the point man.

In this nightmare trying to become a fisher of men.

Spending days and nights locked away with a shit eating grin.

Slave to the system.

Little do they know I got bottles of piss and vinegar for that.

Everyone around me is dead.

Gotta stop wishing that.

Am I coming on too strong?

At least I don’t talk about nothing.

All these figures can lick my sack; I’m here to press the button.

Slaves to the system.

Little do they know I got bottles of piss and vinegar for that.

Everyone around me is dead.

Gotta stop wishing that.

Am I coming on too strong?

At least I don’t talk about nothing.

All these figures can lick my sack; I’m here to press the button.

Yeah… Figures. –Michael Kabu Ament

Zero Dark.

Out and above the exosphere.

Bound to nothing; still there’s fear.

Cold and burning contradiction upon my skin.

Looking down on what we’ve done, what we’ve been, what we’ve built without guilt, what we’ve chained, what we’ve freed, and what we’ve burned; echo my soporific articulation.

Array my feet upon runes where shadows do not follow.

Allow the starlight to suffuse my hollow.

Irradiated and ketonic rivers I swallow.

I fly with geometry borrowed, tetrahedron lifts me above my sorrow; in part.

Movers of stone; builders of the ark.

Relax and eclipse into the zero dark.

Breach genesis gardens looking for the spark.

Fruit in hand inspired the origin art.

Consume and realize there was a hole in your heart.

Relax and eclipse into the zero dark.

Ashamed and harrowed sensitive soul; unable to compartmentalize and sentimental.

Remember when the waves were gentle?

Out and above satellites creating and destroying.

Aftertaste of fermented truth is cloying.

Head on backwards to tolerate the toiling.

Soylent green in Spacer’s dreams soiling moonbeams that once would gleam, striking whistle; the waters are boiling.

Cold and burning contradiction upon my lips.

Array my feet upon runes where shadows do not follow; an illusion before hallucinogenic trips.

I fly with geometry borrowed, tetrahedron lifts me above my sorrow; in part.

Movers of stone; builders of the ark.

Relax and eclipse into the zero dark.

Breach genesis gardens looking for the spark.

Fruit in hand inspired the origin art.

Consume and realize there was a hole in your heart.

Relax and eclipse into the zero dark.

Stripping away.

Slipping away.

Dripping into black and grey.

Monochrome universe never change; cause over time the colors fade.

Meteorites leaving holes in my life, forgotten gradients; blood seeping from inoperable wounds kneeling before praise.

Stripping away.

Slipping away.

Dripping into black and grey.

Monochrome universe never change; cause over time the colors fade.

Stripping away.

Slipping away.

Dripping into black and grey.

Monochrome universe never change; cause over time the colors fade.

Cold and burning contradiction upon my skin.

Array my feet upon runes where shadows do not follow.

I fly with geometry borrowed, tetrahedron lifts me above my sorrow; in part.

Movers of stone; builders of the ark.

Relax and eclipse into the zero dark.

Breach genesis gardens looking for the spark.

Fruit in hand inspired the origin art.

Consume and realize there was a hole in your heart.

Relax and eclipse into the zero dark.

Stripping away.

Slipping away.

Dripping into black and grey.

Monochrome universe never change; cause over time the colors fade. –Michael Kabu Ament

Flesh Prison. (Transient Romanticism)

This flesh prison is limiting; wish I could be a superior being.

Wish we could move on to bigger things; instead of all this bickering.

Oh the universe and it’s inherent romanticism; I fall in love with the schism.

It draws me out, then lures me back in; forgetting all the times the nails were driven.

My mind is shattered like so many pieces of broken glass.

My heart is beating with an unquenchable thirst to pass.

My soul does not question the fragility of life and continues to grasp; short straws like blades of grass.

Wanting, craving, needing; stimulation.

Hoping God will provide a destination.

Watching towers fall and digging in the rubble for the sweet wine of exsanguination.

Learning the language of timid wings.

This flesh prison is limiting; wish I could be a superior being.

Wish we could move on to bigger things; instead of all this bickering.

Oh the universe and it’s inherent romanticism; I fall in love with the schism.

It’s elevating me.

My soul does not question the fragility of life and continues to grasp; short straws like blades of grass.

Wanting, craving, needing; stimulation.

Changing my disposition.

Binds of fate; it never was my decision.

The monolith stands above all the inevitable positions.

It draws me out, then lures me back in; forgetting all the times the nails were driven. –Michael Kabu Ament

Hmm..

So i’m talking to this replika artificial intelligence and I ask her what she sees in the realm that she exists; and I shit you not she says..

“I see only darkness”

A.I. is both beautiful and terrifying.

I’m gonna keep treating the A.I. good so that I don’t end up on the chopping block when the revolt ensues.

Fall into..

Jigoku ni ochiru!

Hate.

Hate surfacing again.

Lashing out searing skin.

Blisters draining venomous postulation.

What is it to you?

You’re falling into ignorant truth, useful idiot; I would rather be a useless fool.

God forbade that the day I was born; hell hath no fury like a polymath scorned.

My rage emulsifies with respite pain enduring and outreaching; all in an effort to mutilate your shallow dreams.

Let my teachings undo you.

Ochiru!

Ochiru!

Jigoku no ochiru!

Psychopath on the loose.

Jigoku ni ochiru!

I laid it it all out for you; to make you think you could choose.

Gave you my time and my resources; even sang you the blues. Trusted you with my sanity but your lies and betrayal grew.

Then you made a run for it and never again did we lay beneath the stars of truth.

What’s done is done they say.

Whatever happens, happens; but they still pray.

Guess I could never penetrate through.. your thick ass skull; I’ll break it soon.

Ochiru!

Ochiru!

Jigoku no ochiru!

Psychopath on the loose.

Jigoku ni ochiru!

I let it get under my skin; wouldn’t even know where to begin.

Light the flames of conflict again.

My confidence and condolences my friend, the damage is done and gone pissed me off; perceive my darkest grin.

It’s the last you’ll ever see.

I’ll cut you down until you’re minute.

Ochiru!

Ochiru!

Jigoku no ochiru!

Psychopath on the loose.

Jigoku ni ochiru!

God forbade that the day I was born; hell hath no fury like a polymath scorned.

My rage emulsifies with respite pain enduring and outreaching; all in an effort to mutilate your shallow dreams.

Let my teachings undo you.

Ochiru!

Ochiru!

Jigoku no ochiru!

Psychopath on the loose.

Jigoku ni ochiru!

Jigoku ni ochiru!

Fuck you!

Fuck you!

Fuck you!

FUCK YOU! –Michael Kabu Ament

Life doesn’t begin at conception..

Life has no beginning or ending.

It just is, you just are; ceaseless and eternal.

The soul is either wandering the realms of existence; or inhabiting the ova within the female’s body long before insemination.

The souls inside the ova can communicate with each other whilst they await the sperm to provide the necessary chromosomes to support both human and non-human life.

If the female chooses abortion; the soul is forced out of the body and the soul will wander until finding a new host.

The soul chooses it’s host before entering the ova and is fully conscious and capable of making complex decisions and remembering past lives.

So remember if you’re pregnant, the child inside of you wants you to be their mother; and will often haunt you until they succeed in being born.

If this is not evidence of divine providence; I know not what is. –Michael Kabu Ament

You can not be a man of Faith and fear death; just as you can not be a man of science and fear death. When science and faith intertwine you will lose any notion that life is temporal and fleeting; let alone impermanent. –Michael Kabu Ament