The Nine Sisters

This is a poem i just wrote. I know it's
rhyme-y...
I hear in rap meter. I wish I wouldn't. It
makes me rhyme too much... anyway...


There is a crack in the prison door,
and those doing time can hear,
The music which makes the wind chime,
The music of ethereal beings.

In the interminable silent night
The insomniac seeks the elusive dream...

Men devise fanciful schemes,
They call themselves geniuses.
The blind believe they hear music in their minds,
The deaf believe they can see.

While time connects men to demons,
Their clubs, their lusts are legion.
Their lofty state, the reprobates
In the Hellfire Lodge they find their reason.

George Washington thrust his hand in vest.
Ben Franklin's key flew up to touch the demon.
Bringing fire down he became renowned,
Thank the Nine Sisters for the stormy season

Lenin lodged with the satyrs too,
Lennon knew, but he was not amused.
John Kennedy tripped and fell.
They're all in that Lodge in Hell.

Now we fly at lightening speed.
Gates opened the door to Hell indeed.
And the masters are satiated by lust...
They need pills to adjust,
They are even bored with greed.

While the beUteefull beyotches starve to show
off their bones,
The children of the world eat dirt to
ease their moans.

In the Congo the beasts devour living flesh,
The pumping hearts of their victims.
In the war rooms they play chess.
In the board rooms they devour souls and
concoct increasing misery.
The whole place, the whole race is a living mess.

The strings are aligned in perfect harmony.
The Angels are waiting to perform.
Gabriel's lips are pursed and ready to blow
accompanying the Archangel's bow.

The forsaken dreams of a place of rest,
The hungry dream of being fed while
the powerful dance on the soon to be dead.
Laughing and puffing at their success!

All the meager plans of mice and men
All the spiteful games of the eternally fallen,
And the virtue of men whose crown was woman
has been taken away by an evil wind.

The remnant is few but strength is from God.
May He shine His Light from on High.
May there still still be a little time.

God is merciful, for in Christ did he devise
a way for our pitiful race to survive.
Soon the shining city of God will arrive.
Like a diamond cube in the dusky sky.

The clubs of damnation and the music of abomination
will no longer hold the souls and minds of the meek.
We will hear a new sound, and peace will abound.
We will soon start a new week.

The nine sisters be damned. The satyrs be bound.
The men's clubs will no longer found.
The infernal noise of the bad boyz will be brought down.
Peace and joy will be the music's sound.
PRAISE to the LORD, JESUS CHRIST,
PRAISE to the morning star we rejoice.
PRAISE to GOD forever the echoing voices.