more rain fall, more silver clouds with dark linings, the messengers and heralds of the gods have determined we pass through into slow time, with magick knives pierce the veils, align the stars, turn the lead into gold, the fortress of transmutation, the idolatry culture pours away like dust in the redemption drug swirl.
headless men run the planet and they have no hearts to match as they watch their money gods turn out to be smoke and mirrors, behind the veils, all the solid mechanism is nothing more than abstract art, everything alluded to nothing.
'hoax'
yes the great hoax. you were warned, they sat upon their horses, along the canyon and looked down at your folly, they attempted to educate you with wisdom but you torched their villages, they showed you the great spirit but you saw a savage primitive heathen and fed them your alcoholic poison to match your ideological one, where man stood with the buffalo you cut him down and killed the beast, where there was honour and dignity you laid waste. where the arrow of truth and will cut the sky you brought your fire stick. the fork tongue of deception stole but the truth always finds a way back.
and now watch closely, listen and feel the tremors of the great spirit.