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Cylinder Shaped World

Artifex Pereo

The most awful of villainy has stricken our village.
Testing our faith and crossing our grounds,
it's certain who's to shame.

How could a notch be driven so far from our belts
with these scriptures and affirmations,
that for centuries we've held?
The children are gaping right through our feathers and de-stemming from our roots.
A curious eccentric youth is glooming of our truths,
with blasphemous deliberations intolerant of our loop
that filters in the spiritual and rids us of the damnable.

Oh, how we wouldn't hear of it.
It's time to cage the animals,
let them lick at metal for rust.
It's in the name of our congregation,
when they sink beneath the dust by fire,
by rope, by stones if we must.
To by stand is one thing, but to think is another.

Holes in the earth of insensible depths and infinite heights
encapsulate happenings with times.
Mind settings drawing lines of a cylinder shaped world
driven further than awry by who it's comprised of.

When all you see are heavens and hells, you fear those casting out.
How advantageous we are, who landed on the ground.

How advantageous we are, we who land on the ground.
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