The Fall Of Omnipotence

I want to do it my way
And I could do this all day
Don’t jail me, I won’t fall flat
Just give me another game to play
Combusting the Amazon forests down South,
I’ll taint fire just for one day
Reality is for me to touch with my senses,
Feel with prodigy prowess
I think I’ll ring Nazareth for fun
To leave my morals and my compass all undone
Swimming through prophecies after the other,
A day, a past, a history to unfold
Crimpled and crumbled under the peaces of fund
I’ll trust abandonment to caress my old finances
Dust it through all forms of occurrences
I shall bleed the signs of time for I shall,
Paint my signatures all through the town
Only in Nazareth
Can you adopt this, foster this adamant play?
Decibels of screaming, heading just my way
Characterisation holds no distinction
A postmodern chaos for you to emulate
Pres s your charades back into my stamp book
The great depression ran across the town and it claims,
I’m always coming back, back for your neglect
Nazareth’s citizens drown the death into their veins
Silicon prophecy, they say that miracles are the epitome of reign
In Nazareth will it only rain the the structural composition of pure, bleeding light
And God demanded, there will be light
Nazareth screams, they all know
God is the light, and existence is a self-assurance
I want it my way

Minkowski Illusion

As the spirit crafts imperceptibly,
The answer to a maiden’s prayer
Under the rightful wing
An angel permeating the conscientious
The Devil and liberation, sprawling an erratic conscious
In an act of God
doused with the flame of divinity
A distinct mockery of absurdist defeat
An electromagnetic wave penetrating the aether of the dead
Birthed under a violet star
The pronunciation and parole of a black body
Taken under inertial imminence
Gone simply, at the speed of light
Contrasted with the homogenous void of space

Too far-

Its abstractions ambiguously converging into illiteracy
With the maiden caught in thin air
Importing her health through one pretty song
She’s assured, her senses are omnipotent
In a world where sensibility is beaten
Back to the strand, bone idle
Purity can never blaze the trail of assumption