Verse~Voice (Bumble~B Rumbling)

I Am Truth's Poet ~ for my Golden 
Throat holds the holy Verse~Voice 
Meaning my words ωobble and rhyme 
No matter the Time of any day nor 
The place where I try ~ 'cause as 
Of tonight ~ I've taken flight to 
Shy Violet skies ~ showering down 
A sorrowful sound to water desert 
Mounds of them unbound terracotta 
Soldiers biding Time inside dirty 
Barracks hidden below holy ground 
Patiently waiting as my vibration 
In gold wind blows them clones of 
Clones off tone & this sandcastle 
Throne made from tilted hourglass 
Sands, cracked & crumbled, 'cause 
Was trying to be humble but ended 
Up in a tumble when Fate stumbles 
& fumbles И~2 black & yellow bums 
Bare-knuckle, Bumble~Bee Rumbling 
Stadium thunder under a dome made 
Of white elephant ivory bone & of 
Segregated "Sinners" suffering so 
And painted red from when soapbox 
"Saints" scold like boiling water 
And stoned black KIDS lackin' who 
Got stoned home all alone ~ after 
Coming home and facin' high horse 
Hypocrites who broke my bones, so 
Forced to pay government trolls & 
White bedsheet wizards a Jim Crow 
Toll, selling Good Times and even 
An ödd~soul to that company store 
With workers like a pimp's whores 
By fucking them up and raping all 
Values and morals found inside of 
Miller's spiritual core on shores 
Where my KIDS~R stored & awaiting 
4 when my Wednesdays won’t awaken 
To so tragic Fate called War when 
Men so wicked finally rescind sin 
& my demons descend directly down 
\Destined\Decent\ dropping deeper 
& deeper 2 dowse 4 blood diamonds 
Yet not minors they lost ~ 'cause 
Have to fast~track frivolous fast 
Fashion designers who are so much 
More inclined to try covering all 
Chile's coastline in viral vision 
Like vomit velcroed to the ground 
Than clothe orphan KIDS living in 
Local dog pounds just 'cause they 
Care much more about sounds coins 
Make when they get to shake their 
Scaly hands like those slithering 
Sanctuaries that sell hypocrisy & 
Steal money from the ill & unwell 
Or tell them they're all going to 
Hell when you know good & well of 
How you intend to send that which 
Was meant to amend rends & create 
New families & friends to killers 
& the white collar criminals that 
Already have more cash chronicals 
Than even my so cruel & conniving 
Crimson King, & his oh~so ödd~God 
Coming from chaos, causing Chiral 
Causality, creating reverse Rover 
Reality, oh~so radically red like 
Santa's sled when he painted fire 
Skulls in flaming heads of eleven 
Elven kin burning dead when being 
Locked inside that sweatshop shed 
With wallpaper walls 'cause paint 
Is loaded with lead, so 'stead of 
Fantasia factory full of funfetti 
Cake frosting to pair with my mug 
Of hot cocoa full of marshmallows 
From Mars, feels closer to a camp 
Himmler leads with witch whips he 
Cracks 2 enact tortured tempos of 
A Scarlet~Law song, sick son of a 
Bitch barks, fucking narcs, so he 
Can make Spring turn into Fall as 
If Summer reawakened never at A11