Methodology - Crisis

Has the light become part of the machinery?

Has the hand become part of the disease?

Has the body become the unwilling vessel?

Hahahaha how simple to peel away the skin and cut away the flesh

To discard and dispose or preserve of brain, vertricle, heart, lungs…

To be left with bones…

Stitching the pieces of appendage of directed sight and speech

Dictating placement of footsteps and embrace

SERVE MY DESTINY

SERVE MY PROPHECY

SERVE MY FUTURE

SERVE MY FUTURE

The master man maker;

twitching the thread of a thigh bone

Twisting the stitch of a wrist moving toward its destiny…

SERVE MY DESTINY / PROPHECY / FUTURE

Beading the twinkle of an eye to shine on only one truth

Casting a lock of hair meant to strangle the last bit of hope

YOU ARE THE MASTER

YOU ARE THE DOLL MAKER

YOU ARE THE SLAVE CREATOR

String them up to teach them your language

YOU ARE THE MASTER

YOU ARE THE SLAVE CREATOR

Hahaha an individual with choices to make you are not

You merely play into my hands, the web I weave

I twist you in like a fly.

and you no longer think

And you no longer feel.

and this is the dance you do

And this is the dance you do

Building the confines of trust and obedience

Housing the weakness of winged spirits

And capture the mystery of otherness

YOU ARE THE MAN MAKER

YOU ARE THE WILL BREAKER

YOU ARE THE LIFE TAKER

Cage them up to keep them from falling out of line

Puppet strings begin to twist.

a master hand… do you know who I am?

SERVE MY DESTINY.

SERVE MY PROPHECY.

SERVE MY FUTURE

This garden breeds the yellow pestilence of wicked fingers

At work among the living.

branches are broken for posture

And structure of spineless cloth sacks of arms and legs

And face and neck of the master’s creation