Pyramid

There's a pyramid where my mind use to be.
And in this pyramid there is a revolution waiting to be.
And in this revolution there are hieroglyphs breaking free from the skin of that olden papyrus
revealing ultra iets and hymns
carried within the hands of divine clothes
blind folds with celestial speech and
blind folds that mask eyes of refined gold and they exist
beyond the moons eclipse
where time folds
the mind it knows not except the pardox
where pandora's box may have been left ajar and
just afar there is a body of men
preparing to ascend and conquer
upon a land where the peaceful reside and prosper

watch them

watch them

watch them watch men. Men that watch god watch them
and his men that forgot god. God thought god forgot them
cause them to forget themselves and even
men who forget themselves watch men.

And most men busy themselves in sin
and forget god has inscribed angels to watch them
to watch for the time when Jesus will decend
chanting ohms and hymns
watch them
screaming joy students when the anti-christ is divided
like when David slated the giant. Rocks
sling shots into the iris of Goliath

watch them screaming
joy. Stridence singing:

Oppress the tyrants!
Violence the bias!

Beast feast. Sleep until the idus.
Feel my heartbeat everywhere,
and everyone
and everything beats everyone and everything into
a love submission but in the distance
my sixth sense senses the innocent being
sentenced to death
noose dangling from necks
beneath the breast of the sycamore tree
they are sick of more me.

Want to make sure we are recommended
like the mended Martin
and Malcolm and Mumia
and the rest of the subjugated masses
and if not blast us and at least they'll
cast us in a prime of prisons.

Where -isms persist,
where religion is myth,
and truth never did exist.

What paradox paradigm is this?
we ask.
And at last
the revolution has come.
the revolution has come.
the revolution has come.

succumb to the tongue of a poet
come poet
come return them honor.
Burn the turmoil into Tonkas.
A columbomb for every comma
May every hosanna turn tundra to summer in Osana.
May what I spit summon Osama
times a thousand dolly lamas with loaded lamas.
Spark to match. A mattress full of matches.
A myriad militia of monsters that master mantra.
A Mansa Musa meta-conscious and a ganda of like-minded men.
If the eye only sees what the mind can comprehend
then there's a pyramid where my mind use to be.

I say there's a pyramid where my mind use to be.

And in this pyramid there's a dwelling where the mynas use to be.
where time use to sleep.

where the mimes use to speak.
and the revolution speaks

the serene soul of daniel where the lions use to feast
and finally there is peace

and finally there is peace
and the revolution sleeps
with one eye open.