Let your emotions, flow ever so gently, down to the end of the river bank, we will travel. As our vocals become weary, from all the hymns that we sing. Dreadful is the scenery as the moon is red! Blood paints the moon red / overflowing with little faultier.

    Yes, with little faultier the moon appears to be.

     Dull is the view, from on top of this mountain I can see. Down to the people who recognize evil / I think they call it. 'The Devils Den'?  Can anybody hear me?

      

       CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME?

 

       Shouting until my tonsils, freeze up - tearing from my mouth / there they go. My lover, who is fair is sleeping with ease, I do wonder can she sense my presence? The wooden fire creates heat, crackling is the wood I hear....

         The sound is growing closer with each and every 'snap, crackle, and pop'. My ears are playing tricks on me. Laughing ever so witty to myself, the sound of laughter echoes. 

 

        So now I am one with nature, I presume accurately... For I meditate under the stars, and I mated with the Earth, by expressing my emotions. (Flowing) ever so gently, is and was my song -  which deserves all the glory.

 

       "Positioned on top of this mountain peak, positioning myself for Gods extended reach. I have this theory, if I am positioned correctly / I can talk to God Directly". But where I know I should be more careful to how I say things. I can't help but to swear within every sentence / I hope I won't be long.

          For as sunrise approaches, I know my beloved will hum my name to the heavens. So I must seek out God; in a hurry.

 

         What more could I do? My feelings are already flowing 'ever so gently', down to the end of the river bank. Breath full of smoke, as burnt marks trail my hands. Where can I find the one they call Number 1?

           I know he sits alone; high in his throne, wrapped around my brain is the number 2 headband.

 

         I am a winner, natural-born sinner, who has killed all to many times. My favorite victims was LOVE, and RELIGION - never to understand - so I buried these 'deity pleasures' with my hands. The quest of love had boundaries, the practice of religion had its own games. And they all was complex - so I murdered every I encountered with a brain. 

          Yes, I am strange, maybe a bit deranged, but if there truly is a God. He would explain. What I am? Who am I to be? And what what does my name mean?

 

          "Thomas what a dreary name to call somebody"?

             How ludicrous this must sound?

 

        To always have to humble my tongue, be kind when others are not so deserving, day-dreaming about a poetic psalm - for one who speaks 'ever so gently'. 

        My beloved is still resting with ease, as I struggle to plant this heavenly seed, dawn approaches soon. The trees blow with such ease, delicate leaves fall to the ground, as I listen to fish jumping in and out of the stream.

 

           This view was once dull, now that I've taken out my beautiful mind the strange songs. I can clearly see / or maybe it's just the LSD that's talking...

 

            Here I am, up chopping down trees - smoking tobacco - minus  the nicotine that's 'ever so' stimulating.

 Building a ladder to heavens doorstep.

             Here I am! Up before the sun chopping down trees - smoking tobacco - minus the nicotine that's 'ever so' stimulating.

 

My ladder will be done soon, I reckon around noon. That'll be a God.

 

           Oh, what such amphigories wordplay, I am displaying. You can't build a ladder to heavens doorstep nor can you chop down trees while on LSD. On top of a mountain I sit, what parlor tricks is upon me?

     There is a plot to this life, that I will spend eons among eons to find meaning behind these thoughts.

     I know that I was divergent from birth, always breaking laws, doing research up on different God's. Seeking out meaning as to why I'm classified as being evil?

 

          "Am I not human, just like you? Am I not special, just like you? I know intelligence differs, but is not our song similar - always questioning our parents. The law, is the one and only false god force in my eyes. Am I not human, just like you? Am I not special, just like you?"

 

I should fill these streets with blood, just because...

Society doesn't think much of me, and all these pills are hurting me.

      

            So I will plead insanity, for my dear beloved who sleeps with such ease, is on her hands and knees praying to a false God... And this isn't strange behavior you see, for as she sucks out my otherworldly  soul. I am a God in her thoughts, having minimum meaning to others, thanks to all these pharmaceutical demons.

 

              No soul will suspect it's a war among Demons and Angels, and us "Mentality disabled" people is directly in the center of this arena. So don't blame guns or religion - the most underrated demon is in a orange pharmaceutical bottle - starring with its white top hat, and a fancy cane, that has a fancy name.

   

             So here I am Lord, with a design that is unlike any other, smoke makes leaves trails of nicotine upon my tongue. Humming a blissful tone. I am humble and patient; awaiting my sentence.  While I liberate myself from all this pain, that I am feeling. 

 

Did I forget to mention that I killed my beloved. Which is the reason why she sleeps with such ease - she loves nature - and she loves giving head. But her brain patterns differs from mind, so doing the course of this poetic psalm. 

 

Add another soul to your list God, for I know I have done Wrong

 

Fin. 

 

Sincerely, yours 

Thomas.