Rattle The Beads

Take note, for all your lies are unfolding.
You wrote to me as if I’m worth trolling.
Every word you type holds no truth.
Undoubtedly you would wish to see proof.
I don’t need it because we are strangers.
And who offers millions without dangers.
No one and I know you know.
So take your mails and shove them, go.

Prophets are not here to fix you.
Deities will one day have stripped you.
Wind the cord and rattle the beads.
I’m not listening to these sick deeds.

Form text as if you have a heart.
Pity it reads more like a lark.
Vile jabs meant to tear at my strings.
Just as well I feel none of the things.
If you were real it would be not the same.
Only because it wouldn’t be a game.
Robbing identities is not a vocation.
Sort of thing that deserves incarceration.

Prophets are not here to fix you.
Deities will one day have stripped you.
Wind the cord and rattle the beads.
I’m not listening to these sick deeds.

So force out the conflux.
Stage the deceit.
Breed some concoction.
I deny all you speak.

Metaphors in patterns.
Lies on your tongue.
Honesty is dead here.
Like you claim of someone.

Prophets are not here to fix you.
Deities will one day have stripped you.
Wind the cord and rattle the beads.
I’m not listening to these sick deeds.