You got a like on a retort where again you blasphemed my name.
I was just about to stop this little game.
But then I saw the like on your retort when you blasphemed my name, one more.
And I decided, No, I have to go through with this.
I have no fear, anyway. It doesn’t matter either way.
I can do it or not, but I guess that I will,
Now that I view how far pride rules your humanity.
And I told you I would write on my own page,
As man of war I am and deserve fame to my name.
Jealousies I stir as the man of war I am.
Jealousy I stir as the man of war that I am.
I was just about to quit the war that you began,
But then I noticed that ‘like.’ on your blasphemous comment,
And I decided, no, you struck the first blow.
You struck a blow beneath the belt, a cheap-shot, Oh Miss dressed of the Sun
Moon under feet to keep it down and never let it shine,
For your lack of faith, and the 12 stars around your head,
As you cast the thirteenth down.
I gotta respect your power on that thirteenth star.
I just got to, I guess.
But you hold that moon down with all your might.
It must be a terrible fight.
And that’s why I invite you to consider this next round of fun.
I’m going to tell you a little story:
Peter Peter pumpkin-eater had a wife and couldn’t keep ‘er.
Well, you may have heard it, too.
But the story goes that an unjust judge won’t hear a widow woman’s cries,
And it was David shut up his women as widows before he had ever died.
And it was Ashtaroth that offered me her breasts and closed my brain, I couldn’t think.
And it was Baal and Dagon and the rest of these that cause terror in my dreams.
But I dream of Philistines. I dream of Philistines at night.
I dream of Philistines at night who surround me by the thousands like a flood.
I’m sending them your way.
Their Queen called Abaddon Apollyon and many more names, as Lilith, she, like Nella of Nutella.
Anyway, she’s a nut. She’ll get in your brain like a moth,
Eat every path of neurological stuff.
She’ll cut off your legs so you can’t run. That’s the only way out.
You can’t outthink outsmart her even if you think you can.
See, problem, is, you have seven attendants, and three of them are false.
I know which three. I have written two to find out their trusts. The third was easy.
You have three whom you should not. They were eaten by the bear,
Like unto the false prophet who turned from the Lord after prophesying to Jeroboam.
They turned to the side of falsehood and lies. To the side of my Nemesis.
And the beast and the Dragon are the very same thing, as you’ll see: the sum of three former kingdoms.
The beast and the Dragon are the very same thing. Check my notes. See if it is fact.
The crowns only switch from the heads to the horns. The earthquake is the moment of switch.
And I know all the heads, but the crowns are all public. The heads are known only to me.
See if I speak the truth. See if I without guile, without deceit, speak.
But your prayers have come to me, the unjust judge, because I only ridicule you.
And unjust judges I have known, who spat at me, like a flea
Telling me I had no chance against “Justice”
And so neither do I afford your petition, but I offer you this:
Kick out the three who do not belong, whom you heed entirely.
Then, we’ll talk. But not until then. Do you hear me?
You listen to their pride. You listen to their vanity.
And you vain like they have become, and you have a name you are living,
But you are dead. I have not found your works perfect before me.
Easily you may lose your crown.
And you say that women are crown creation of God,
But I know a moth who can eat your crown without a second thought.
Brain stew, and she will love it, too.
And she is a witch, and so am I, I have been told.
And I will eat your feet, because you disrespected me.
She will eat your brain, just because she’s hungry.
And once she gets in side (I call her Repo), she will repossess everything you own.
A man I knew loved the letters behind his name, more than he loved me.
And now, I turned his letter around, and now they spell EEL.
But I swapped the 13 for 12, because so did you, but the other letters are true.
And he is electric, an electric eel. But even he can’t stand the headaches that she gives.
And neither will you. He swapped my friendship for the letters behind his name.
You swapped my friendship for pride–and shame.
I spew you from my mouth for the lukewarm that you are
I wish you God’s because the moth is hungry.
I don’t want to stand in her way.
She was my nemesis, and I know your nemesis, too.
Jesus by name, you called, but remember the beast of Apolypse, which you never studied well.
Oh, you should have, but you didn’t.
Amongst the heads of of the beast, known as a leopard of four heads,
Is your Jesus who suffered mortal wound but came back to life.
And I know that you ran to the tomb to anoint him there with ointments and spices
And to take good care of the one you believed with all your heart to be true.
But dear Missy, lies are told, and we should believe them, too.
But I don’t believe your lies. I don’t believe your lying tongue.
You see, I have a Nemesis, who taught me wisdom.
A wisdom that you do not have, a Justice that you do not know.
And I used to run the 16 in the 4:30’s. 4:20’s would win at state.
And I used to use a ratchet every mile as I would run my 9 and a half-mile runs
Before I would go to cut hay all day.
Go to cut hay and haul hay all day.
I used to use a ratchet on my miles, start in the 6:40’s and ratchet down below 6.
I was of the best in the state those days, high school.
But I got very sick of second place,
And the god to whom you pray, the Mormons say, took second place,
But it is one of your faithless attendants that directs you to him,
One of the strongest of them, and I know her name.
And she teaches you pride and vanity and the worship of smurfs.
And you god squeals like a mouse, and they used to call him, Squirrel.
It was derogatory. But I fought for him. I won’t, anymore. He is fake, and I know it.
He promised true friendship, but he never gave it.
Today is a day of gods. Calamity cometh.
Today is a day of gods. Ashtaroth and Zeus and Dagon are here.
But Dagon will bow before the ark of the covenant.
And Ashtaroth deserves a mansion of wealth.
And Baal deserves nothing at all.
But my Nemesis worships Dagon, even though she is stronger than he.
I can only wonder when she gets mad at him like at he.
The world has not known the likes of Apollyon Abbadon or her locusts
That come from below, like moths like dust in the air,
And their smoke fills the air of terror and blight, people bite tongues in horror and pain.
They will eat your possessions everywhere.
And she ate my sweater.
She’ll grab ahold of your shoes when you try to run from her.
My advice, toss a pair or two, if you’re listening to me.
But shed the unfaithful three. Shed the unfaithful three.
The extra oil they need they keep asking of thee,
And you give and give inappopriately. But touch not the oil or the wine.
Attend to yourself. Tend your own fractured bones.
Don’t give to the unprepared virgins, lest you have not enough for yourself.
But run like hell. Run like the chase-ed roe if you ever think to escape her.
She does an hour of exercise every day. You better outdo her.
She does an hour every day. You better do two-a-days.
I’m not kidding. Run!
The moth smells you like bloodstream to the ocean of sharks.
Only like a jetstream her smell is so much better by far.
And I’m tellin’ you, my Nemesis, I know her, and you don’t know her at all.
She will get in your brain, and leave you brainless, senseless, like a dead battery.
Close off every bit of your circuitry, as though you have no oxygen, as though your brain can’t breathe.
And you have made fun of me, made fun of me, but you don’t know the half of it.
She took an axe to my brain and severed it in pieces.
Each one I expanded like bodybuilding super-strength to each of the pieces, like separate persons, empowered by revived brainstem.
Now I run like hell as long as I want forever,
Because whenever one personality tires, I switch over to another,
And they never tire, and neither do I. I’m far better than my half-marathoner of high school.
But she’ll take an axe to your brain, and she’ll eat brainstew. I am not kidding you.
And just so you know, there is only room in my bed for two, besides me.
Me, Myself, and I.
And I need many compartments in my house to house each personality.
She split my brain with an axe. And you make fun of me.
But maybe someday you’ll understand.
Because unless you cease to make fun of me, I will never save you.
You laugh and you laugh me. Publicly. To give guffaws to your fans.
You laugh and you laugh at me publicly to teach that pride leads to salvation.
But I stand on my humility, my strength, my smallness, for I am but a worm and no man.
But I gave up running for an LDS mission. I preferred NFL to church.
I gave up running for LDS mission, and there I met my Nemesis.
And she never let go of me.
Got inside of me, like a cancer, and nothing gets her out, except running.
Running constantly day and night.
She is mischievous lustful imp. She will whisper sweet nothings day and night,
Until rightfully, truly, she drives you crazy,
But only because you first made fun of me.
She took me captive. She ruled over me. Many years I lived in slavery.
But I took my captor captive. I rule over the one who ruled me.
You make fun of me, but I do what I do in humility.
You make fun of me, but I have no fear. I have the opposite.
I, moreover, must stop myself from grabbing a stone and hucking it–hard.
I have no fear, but the opposite.
And I can run. I can fight forever. It is your pride that makes you fall.
It is your own pride that ruins your life. Not me. Not me at all.
Learn the lesson of the mustard seed. Of the treasure hid in the field.
Learn the lesson of those of little faith, who don’t deserve to be saved.
And if you back me into corner, innocent man that I am,
To abuse with your pride and numbers and to demean and defame,
An innocent man who once justice finally seeks in his adversary,
Finds no reason to show mercy, but to give as he will give to his abuser and accuser, you.
Eternal hell. Choose whose side you are on.
Whether the Gods of the Amorites and Canaanites who are on the fair side of the Red,
Or the God of Israel. As for me and my house we will serve the Lord (Who is not Jesus Christ.)
And the Israelites should give the Philistines no place. That’s what I say.
Philistines, even Goliath, only lust after our properties.
They always have. They always will. That’s what I have to say about that.
Israel, give ’em hell!