When the darkness falls and your light gets dim. Give the starseed a call for some bright vision. I was born in the black before life stepped in told us that the whites were more righteous men. That was it for the gods, put the chokehold on em, movement on pause. And thus began the fall. Or was it autumn, cuz that’s when the green turned brown, and the trees started dropping leaves towards the ground. Secret scrolls, fingertips pierced by the thorn of a rose, fresh blood for their souls. Behold- the pale horse on the road, with death on the reins with a pocket full of gold. the same men that sat down and broke bread stabbed their elders in the backs til the rivers ran red. And thus began the saga of immortals turned men. Who would outlast the other, strike the balance and win?
Grey skies prevailed over sunlight then. Purple hearts marked the chest bones of valiant men. For those who fought brilliantly, a legend was formed. Word got around a rebel was allegedly born. Trouble was brewing. Bubbling hot in steel cauldrons. Bounty hunters gunning for triple six carbons. Freedom fighters on the lam, them trap boys and daughters of the dust in the streets going ham. foolish desperation was a popular brand. streets flooded from the overworked ocular glands. Blood rituals manipulated mystical man, putting slaves on their knees to a mythical man. The world was ruled by a more reptilian hand. Full power in exchange for their techno advance. Now it seemed that the children had hardly a chance. But alas here she was in her tiger head stance.