LINGUISTIC LABYRINTH OF LUNACY
“I am announcing this government will make a…digital id mandatory to work in the UK, let me SPELL that out” – Keir Starmer
Lost in a linguistic labyrinth of lunacy,
All I see are the sails at half mast,
On the souls of the servants to a master-class.
It’s a classic case of Stockholm syndrome,
Bowing down to a flag,
Worshipping the throne.
But there’s a parasitic entity that sits up there,
With a false crown on the head,
In a blood stained thiefdom’s chair.
Subjects, subject, to subjugation.
Lords, lord over the fools.
No majesty, in the majesties.
No right of divine right to rule.
No common wealth, in the commonwealth,
Just surfs shovelling shit, like the groom of the stool.
Reigning over you,
Like reins control a horse.
The blinkers placed up on you,
Vote! Freedom, and democracy of course.
Owning all the land.
Govern-ment – control the mind.
Corporeal corpse corporations,
A dead body animated in time.
Language, a magic to cast their spells,
A black’s book of law, they know it well.
Caught in a court.
Charged in a cell.
Not a boat sailing free on the oceans well,
No it’s a boat chained to land,
With the anchor dropped.
Chained to judges square and compass,
Chained to the judges dock.
The defendant defending a fictitious name,
Cast you in a lock.
Locked up prison,
A prison of the heart.
Barbed wires surround it,
Forever in the dark.
The beast is crowned and free,
About the unicorns neck, chains abound.
The symbols speak in metaphor,
Hidden in plain sight, on the English pound.
ID card they push,
To reign in your sovereignty,
To create a digital prison,
To control what humanity could be.
To track your every move,
To trace your every thought,
To build their dark world order,
They stretch humanity taught.
They require us to under-stand,
To stand-under their conjurations cast.
Crafting realities with word play,
Authorities re-authoring the past.
The system and its enforcers,
Enforce through violent acts.
Acts of parliament acting,
Playing make believe,
Make up “facts”.
They write their spells on paper,
Sentences underline the ruler and the pen.
The enchanted think it’s real,
A law they call it then.
But it’s all just sigils scribed on paper,
Given power by our belief.
If we say no, they know we know,
That we stand in our sovereignty within.
The Politicians – poli-ticks,
Many blood sucking creatures.
Above them vultures circle wild,
Vampiric energy drainers feed,
On the innocence of youth and child.
Paedophilic monsters,
Satanic high priests,
Carrying out there rituals,
The demons molest those asleep.
Trick and trick, then treat,
Then trick, then treat, then trick.
Creating multiple personalities,
Fracturing minds they split.
Trauma based mind control,
Is the recipe they spirit cook.
Given to the monarch butterflies,
With one eye always shut.
The celebrated infect the culture,
With the programs they’ve been fed.
A finger over the lips,
Shushing us to sleep, shushing us to bed.
Behind them is a shadow,
A hand in pocket shown,
Stood in ley, black and white flooring,
A shake uncommon known.
A tyler and a builder,
A tower left and right,
A star sits in between them,
The one eye shining bright.
But will we see through the smoke screen?
Will we see what’s been done?
Will we live to remember?
Who we are? And where we’re from?