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GunpowderPlot blog

By GunpowderPlot(29)
About GunpowderPlot(29)


Who is to say what’s wrong or right,
Or choose if black or is it white?
Who cares about the dark or light?
It doesn’t really matter.

Who’s he that talks ‘bout weak and stong,
Or thinks one’s short or one is long?
Does a bird cry or sing a song?
It doesn’t really matter.

But if you bring a child to tears,
Or share with them your petty fears.
With innocence gone life disappears.
And that really does matter.

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The Beach

With chains attached, I grasp at ghosts,
With bricks on back, I gaze the coast.
I can’t escape the master’s eye,
This is my life led ’til I die.
I follow those still with and gone,
The way it takes is not the one.
I see the place, just out of reach,
My paradise lies at the beach.

How can it be all hope is lost?
They set the price, I pay the cost.
With sweat on brow beneath the sun,
I fall on knees; pray to the one.
But no replies as I proceed,
“Gods on your side,” the good books read.
Despite the gospel prophets teach,
God will not take me to the beach.

With master’s stare direct at me,
I think he knows I should be free.
His eyes dismiss, can’t take the fact,
Then lays his whip across my back.
My limits reached, can’t take the pains,
I drop my bricks, they break my chains!
When I have flown, their own to each-
But I found paradise at the beach.

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I am man, the blood of Adam flowing in my veins.

My father fell so that I dwell with evil, feel the pains.

Because my knowledge, now I fall. It wasn’t worth it.

Or should this second fall reverse it, make the world perfect?

In Eden Earth was paradise, but now were all just parasites,

Truth no longer to be found, I just stand here and compare lies.

First Kane slew Able, The world yielded, that’s when I controlled,

I strung the cables, bound and gagged the world- choke hold.

My insecurities, my fear of nature makes me hate it,

I want to raze it, releasing toxic waste and devastate it.

I’m sorry Mother, but I’ll never be as good as you.

You gave me everything you had, and I resent that too.

I’m sorry that we fight, I wish we’d go back how we were,

Nature was my nurturer, my conscience- clear and pure.

I can’t go back now and I’ve grown to big for you to handle,

The final hour now, no turning back, blown out the candle.

It was my father’s fault, the lightning rod for all my worry,

He caused this agony, and so I strike with all my fury.

I’ve been in planning this, the time has come for now and ever-

I’ll walk the globe on foot now looking for your throat to sever.

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I take out the Oijjia board and place it centered on the floor,

I place my hands upon the planchet, just like the times before.

I say a silent prayer to God so that I may be protected,

Then ask the world of the unknown, who wishes to be accepted.

“Is there any spirit in this room that wishes to come and chat?”

The sign moves slow and it reaches “Yes”, before I’ve finished that.

I ask the Ghost, “what is your name?” and “How’d you come to die?”

He answers his name is Ignatius Bliss, and he is no more dead than I.

It moves so smooth and quickly that I become a little frightened,

“Where are you from?” I question him and soon I am enlighten.

“I’m within the darkness same as you, but I without confusion“,

He continues, “everything that you know and see, is actually illusion.

We exist as part of the greater whole, and everything’s not as it seems.

The reality is dark like eternal sleep, and your life is but the dreams.”

I ask for proof as simple minds do, How do I know this isn’t fable.

It moves from the L to O-O-K, and the board lifts from the table.

Just as fast the board drops back, I grab my pad to document,

But before I have a chance to write, by itself the pen just went.

I can see it write the name seven times, “Mr. Ignatius Bliss,”

And now I become a bit more scared, what in heaven’s name is this?

Just as fast as I have the thought I hear it answered back aloud,

“You welcomed me into your realm, and I’ve now passed through the shroud.”

At this time I just happen to glance at mirror hung on the wall,

I don’t see me, but in my place is him, he smiles and that is all…

So now I finish were the other being left, it is I and it’s my right,

I have taken over as narrator, and it is I that won the fight.

Mr. Ignatius Bliss

Mr. Ignatius Bliss

Mr. Ignatius Bliss

Mr. Ignatius Bliss

Mr. Ignatius Bliss

Mr. Ignatius Bliss

Mr. Ignatius Bliss

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So this moment is being spent,

There’s but a single moment got.

Never to reach the past of tense,

“What” and “where” change, but the “when” does not.

The moment is now and it surrounds,

There is no past or future true.

Once “what” and “where” dissolve as bounds,

Then the moment is made by you.

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