#AloneAtWarWithOneLove #GiveItAllTakeNothing #HeartBrokeSiblingMuscle

LONG ARM OF THE LAW:  7th SONS DON'T GET TOO FAR FROM GUNSMOKE WARS

I got some good news & some better news so which do you want first?  It's a miracle and I see

Answered all the questions for the mysteries that confound the empty mind, to be or not to be

It's never not to be since the universe is infinite and cannot be resolved by annihilation of atoms

Void's empty of you & I & everything else with a molecule of Hydrogen, God sends all the bums.

Contract the macrocosm into a microcosm, expand the microcosm into a macrocosm, that's all

Nothing more nor less than the whole Truth & Nothing but the Truth, help your gods trip & fall

Stumble along now, the path is never easy and there's some obstacles, you know who's Papa

Gunsmoke rises to the blue sky, rocks fall down to the underground, sent to the maker, Mama.

Drunk or higher than kites ever need to be, unconsciously conscious of the subconscious mind

Blunder waiting to happen, mistaken reality for the illusion of the hallucinations of ten LSD trips

Nobody knows what you're thinking but you know what they're thinking, "I could kick his arse!"

Although it's never true, it's the thought read, the facial expression, the eyes' focus on the blind.

Shots in the dark from the shogun marriages due to the ecstasy stolen before a holy ceremony

Hard to hear soft, quiet or loud or even see beautiful or fugly, smooth or rough to Midas' touch 

It's only a matter of time before we come around to the ways of the world, kept it rollin' 'round

Before it was way too late, Truth is that the Word is stay High above or below my voice's sound.

Evil forces stop my soul from hunting and fishing for the prey I need to remain healthy or I die

If you don't like it, frankly I don't give a damn, your existence is merely one piece of cherry pie

Baker puts the fruit of the vines into the dough of the crushed up flour, divided yet still at One

In the end, solid, hard times come into vivid focus, intelligence tracks me, I'm The Seventh Son.

Got my guns and knives but the bombs blew them away with my friends and family, it's all over

It's too hard to handle the crews who cannot commit to the discipline of being a perfect soldier

Marching to the cadence of drum beats and horn blasts, around the bon fire or on the way Out

From the warm homes to hard & cold Truths away from the Fire's burned ether, do not doubt.

Hot as a six-gun pistol & just as cold as a cube of water-ice, she can work my inner sanctum hole

Where no other soul is allowed entry, there's only one allowed enter & carouse the shop's M.O.

Sun's dreams recovered, while Human's #Woke choke on spit shines & immaculate conceptions

Force of up and down, awakened, lie to me, that's all folks, it's a spell of the Origin's mortal sins.

by

r j j  stephan, i

c.  Samedhi, February XXVIth, MMXXII Anno Domini @ 911 AMPST

{ Dribbled this out of the spitune this AM While jammin' on a loop of #WhiskeyForMyMenBeerForMyHorses link @ https://youtu.be/NHoGBEaCd-M }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.?