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The power to wage world war or the power to gain material things violently if one is poor. |
the sun plays with darkness stabbing and jabbing in departure black unwinds, stretching,encompassing, a creeping abyss stillness has one hand on the wheel the dark is glassy as the water's reflection is clear striking shallow sweet a place of waking phantoms perched in the black near a shadows place man kneels in grace he is hammer for the god's of war creating his place with a hum and rattle time is man's finest driven enemy a flash in the sky we fall and fly lost inside our own battle cry hammer on metal produces this metallic sound agony’s pleasure just beyond again and over the echo resounds it calls us home while blinding us profound a cue recurs flowing slow, passing over our ears in a clear place to set a crown quicker than quick we are controlled by a finger on the trigger Chosen for one but all ages can be a player the rules have come undone to beat a new order a train jumps the tracks a chain snaps back releasing a bullet named terror this bedlam competes with the sound of conflict in a place found just past bliss's hitch tattooed with metals ink my engraved skin feels pains true kiss thunder is envious of lightnings perfect hit hammer on metal as the gods crack their whip Terry D'Arcy-Ryan |