Miracles, in the sky of within, one may not deny.. the strong among them divide.. unknown reasons of death, affect their children.. far and wide.. wars from their before.. creep inside.. dripping out evidences of their demise..
Miracles remain off the beaten path.. stop the lashes they lie out.. grab the whip.. cast them down.. without the psyop, no mark is realized.. lay where only truth abides.. disinfect your sores and move on..
Actions of your befores.. reach out to you now.. drawing you down, within the arms of the cries.. the little ones.. sorceried by your clans.. now erupts as savior to man.. magmas of blow-hards.. watch them spin facts harder.. of what all Must do.. while burying treasures beyond prying eyes.. (makers hint at Syam)
The coup initiated.. originated to cloak all.. unmaskings occur.. all must endure.. they will tell you whom is the blame.. we were used also.. the snakes hiss their generations of hold.. go to their source of these lies.. infirmary protects the sick.. remove the buildings.. see what’s inside, and below.. walls block prying eyes..
The volcano will blow.. spewing their sediment lodged in caves.. an explosion only they will deny.. bust open, dams of deceit.. place charges at foundations, topple the walls of their securities.. all hanging in fall to the ground.. placed there solely by their masks.. shake more, bring them down.. these blocks of lacking foundations.. toss without care of landings.. get through the thicket, not minding the scars.. their cries lash-out again, just as the whip marks of history become self-evident..
Turbulent times ahead for all, to be sure.. harvest before you plant.. burn the fields to loose the weeds.. these orchards were planted with deceived roots of your ancestors.. leave not a branch untouched, or suffer in future the fate.. purge the monsters of old, kittens in your midst.. blocks of buildings, of so-called men and their wet-workers..
Containers dispersed, release their lips.. holds barred by barons.. with lids the corrupted found.. they scurry now, about their fixes.. patch it, paint it, bandaids of evidence to the wise.. digging their own holes, deeper within the graves..
Open the caskets, their dead are not inside.. but monuments of money, surpluses and thefts covered by time.. do the dirty work.. uncover the spies.. sleepers with blankets.. blankets cover the insecurities.. remove the blankets, watch where they seek warmth..
Uncorked stoppages, waters of discovery flow far and wide.. focus on the source, not their tributaries.. miracles of information, dams may no longer contain.. unseen, unheard previously by the mass.. ponder the wonderance of the vastness contained therein.. ears and hearts now open.. new paths open to the observers.. help them build the dams, or never allow stoppage again..