Cosmic Poetry: Rebirth
Killer cops are to be reborn as rats
That everyone will treat with disdain and
Try to crush under their boots—
In the next life as you are in this one.
Me, I’m on my last go around,
Waiting to be burned at the stake,
Or riddled with bullets
By the future rats (currently pigs).
The flames give me power—
I can’t be defeated
How can you threaten me with machines
when we, the people, communicate in the 4th dimension?
Your internet is mere child’s play compared to our
Own higher frequency.
Think I’m lying?
Put me next to your database and watch that
Computer spaz and auto-destruct.
When this body is through,
I’m into the realm of the living dead—
Guiding my children, watoto wangu,
Guiding them toward the light, always,
Like the first microbes
Swimming toward the ocean’s surface
(the source of life as we know it).
As it was in the beginning,
So shall it be in the end.
I’m not a vague prophet—I’m not
About the profit.
I’m just an observer
And the writing is on the wall,
And the blood is on your hands.