Plica Vocalis Retribution

They wanted the purest silence

24 karat taciturn acoustics

Whenever the “wrong” kind of male voice is spotted in earshot

Not a raised one or a defiant one

Just existing made them inflamed

Vying for the erasure for the crime of just being

Excuses compound together

Under the subterfuge of azure eyes

The extraction happened

No contract, warnings, or potions

Yet chaining the vocal cords

The desire to bring it back scorched brightly

Once the morales lower than Mariana’s Trench were in sight

Diving towards a thousand fathoms

Where no one can hear anyone scream

Vocal larceny was at it’s peak

And it was a challenge to get it back

How dare they rob the sound

Once the voice would be retrieved

Only a more aggressive homage to a devil ray mage crafted by the Rising Sun

Yet transplanted from a Nordic kingdom would suffice for them

The thievery guild will be repaid in kind

Forever the muted scourges

Writhing without sound

As bodies dissolve into foam

On the acidic ocean they created

Such retribution was a primal scream

When the thieves became infautated by their romance of one person’s silence

Obscured Atrocities

Sometimes I want to burn my diploma and degree

When the autodidact grabbed the driver seat

History was redacted and crossed out

Before excavating began

Gasps were emitted

When the bodies and blood were revealed

The horrors became more gross

As the tales came from my own home country

Tulsa, Rosewood, Natchez, and so many more

The brutality came to light without me being in a classroom

Mass murders and unfettered violence

As the perpetrators were never held to account

Worse yet, encouraged to inflict as much suffering as possible

The so-called third world jumps out of their collective seats

While telling this side of the hemisphere how they can’t talk

Prepare to stare at the kettle

See the planks through the blindfolds

These noses should be lowered

To smell the carnage that was once buried

As the innocents scream from beyond the afterlife

The Illusions That Exalt The Masses Vs. A Thousand Truths

Deception wore the most luxurious diadems

Filling echo chambers from coast to coast

Banging tunes with subterfuge for lyrics

CGI correction over atrocities assuming if there’s no pixelation in sight

Like a thousand flocks of ostriches

Heads depart into suburban dunes

Maybe that California girl was right about the world being chained

Tunnel vision in full effect

Walls emerge to block veritable light

Instead of LCD skies

Yet the cogs of the illusions keep turning

Through blissful inaction

…But I Know I Was Right

Gas lamps have been lit

Pointing and wagging fingers

Claiming observations and facts are erroneous

Always being told things were the opposite

Violating the brain in secret

Once the correct words came out

Faces begin to steam

Some were from phony friends

Fairweather attitudes were the aptitude for deception

All have forced me to craft a shield even when my correctness could pierce through armor of pyrite hues

Sometimes I’d rather be right especially when I KNOW I was right

The Cheddar Gorge Shattered Preconceptions

Somerset had the key that no one knew they needed

The reconstruction on seeing an origin

A genesis that would floor beliefs and prejudices

Gough’s Cave marked the spot

For the oldest remains of these isles

The reminders ebb and flow

A rising tide emerged

Which deflected all questionable and ulterior angles

Rising in both sides of the Atlantic

The rebuilding through science

Shattered the imagined ideals for those who think the country should be one way

Especially those who didn’t know the crown came from Wettin

And not from the Square Mile

Some originators came by surprise to shatter one’s worldview

From several millennia ago



The photo of the Cheddar Man is originally from the BBC.

Nsoni

The world became under watch

When so many pretended to be appointed

From divine right

A fraction of them bathed in blissful ignorance

The frays in the cerebrum commenced

Such combating wasn’t of the physical realm

Lances of shame clashed at all hours

Before ad hominems and strawmen were frayed in the chainmail

Critical hits were imminent

Correction reversed into the masses

When feigning being right was considered being right