2005-04-06 - your move
shielded in this ancient compartment
from information bombardment,
psychic analysis,
option paralysis,
waves and pulses adverse to bionics...
self-indulgent forces are upon us
rumblings of the tremor of the pangs
numbing all the members of the gangs
of neurologic clusters
ballers, ravers, busters,
and enclaves of genetic deviations
scattered by the wind into the nations
saturated by the rising trend
of spurious transmissions without end
but me, residing deep inside this breath
escape, within the force-field, from the death
that seethes through dusty streets and bloodless doors
passing over those who know before
the way to avoid the fright
what comes like a thief in the night
the essence and antithesis of light
engaging in the chessmatch dispensation
played out for every wayward promulgation
the master knows each move that will take place
he's not perplexed nor troubled by the face
that sits across the board
taking pawns, sowing discord,
he knows the future and each strategy
there's nothing that eternity can't see
and all those who entrust
are encompassed and won't bust
they are safely enveloped from that which numbs
awaiting the last move when checkmate comes
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