Swords, mirrors, prophets/

Jesus, halfbrother to Perseus, whose greatest feats were possible only through the misfortune of cthonic deities. Who swears oaths, who are promised to the sky? Where hath the light of our gliding gone? ,under the lathers of our soaped souls, gone punished, upon the tongue, upon the citizens, going unknown, traveling to wash the world, astringents of our spent evils, i have brothers and sisters, beneath stones and mountains, where the darks develop understandings and i, spiral, enveloped in burning lights, always under the sun, always a squint as these eyes fail over the course of decades, gone, to consider monsters, who would be best with, separations @ the neck,

it's just , justice is,
whose monsters?

candles of liberty OH!

whilst Simon Finn, contemplating Jerusalem, no words figured beforehand.

whilst the Crusades, christian and muslim murderers, holy wars and trading off massacres, a farce of a city, back and forth, gold and blood to this day, what intentions were scratched into sand by idealists and imbeciles, seventy-eight generations ago?

these skeletons are obsolete, in heaven or not. in books or out.

richard the lionheart. saladin. both dead and gone, but the world replacing them, again and again.

and no one, no one to turn them to stone, disembodied gorgon head in hand.

and i am willing to bet that Jesus has never held a head by the snakes, and wielded it as a weapon.

half brother, OH!