AS IS

History tells that truth excels through war. Bombs could be heard busting through the City of 
Noir, and the Matriarchs could be heard screaming. There’s a Dungeon under the Vatican Hill. 
Dead bodies, Decomposites, Ghouls, Goblins, Ghosts, Demons. Deep sea diving towards 
center Earth. Metaphysics without Analytics will get you hurt. Hitler was America’s enemy. How 
much was Antarctica really worth? This hole, from which ALL Mythology rose. “Hallow be thy 
Name”, This Omnipotent-ish wish sending positive electric charges through our veins. This 
headless horseman that continues to chase Ichabod Crane. Don’t go Sleepy Hollow. Freddy 
Kruger knows the dreams of tomorrow. We struggle to tint the window pains. Nightmares on our 
nightstands. Hourglasses broken by the buzzards. No one ever showed us the game plan. Just 
maps and globes of what the World is suppose to look like. Demographs. Photos that appear to 
be on our paths. We need compasses to keep us company. Compassionate about directions 
like a Polymath.
 Because Blood streams have become unclean. HIV/Aids pass through the passageways like 
Halloween. The spirits of the Bayou run dry. Empty liquor bottles and love letters signed 
goodbye. Not all days are as warm as we would wish. No matter how much we call upon the 
comfort of the sun . . . some days we miss and heart monitors greet our loved ones at the gates. 
A heavy heart to heavy to restart. Motor skills salvaged by the evil snakes. Children get trapped 
in the pits. Talents buried in the graveyards where their fathers used to sit. Gods of the 
Underworld. Ever stared at a mound? More than just human remains and artifacts lie 
underground. So does the blueprints to this planet. Before plantations became slave stations. 
Human rights didn’t have to be granted. Where you stand is your Atom. Your surroundings are 
your electrons. Your apple is your appetite. The Center of the Earth is where you come from.
                                                               AS IS

                                                         © Poetic X