[Nigma]

Memoirs of a Dogon Priest

To be human; to create, to embrace, take the safe path
Made of traits, sacred ways, scarab taints the great sands
No apparent race, barren plains, an arid wasteland
Man compares us to the Pharaohs for the peril when we shake hands
We arrive with quakes and lay awake for five millennia
To thrive ahead of the tribes who endlessly try befriending us
Enemies disguised inside a blemish ridden mind of senses
The kind who heads up in the skies as an attempt at getting wiser
Won't search for the cure for water flow, the air
Or focal care of soil honed for growth and clay
They don't compare and souls aware of it
Approach to snare us as a golden chariot
It's over, perished, they're alone and scared
They come to hone the craft our old have mastered
Holy masks with soul entrapment, honed and cast with totem magic
These people foretold to be reaching to own all the secrets we hold
Oh, releasing them? No... Only even exposed to our Chieftain
And those of the priests who have shown a degree of the glow
Will be deemed to bestow it, to gleam and to hold it
These are the secrets we keep in the effigies
Thieves, heed your klepto needs, our Chief weaves the hexes deep
Unseen beneath the recipe, gleaming complex and reforming to karma
But before we afford them this honor, they're born again Gods
Portal beyond with immortal resolve drawn of flora and fauna
Absorb the persona, reshape till exhaustion
The frauds would forsake what we've got so we take these precautions
Aimed at the man whom we've branded a vandal, not scholar
Dissolving their freedom, appalled at the speed of Islamic impeachment
All just to teach them and feed into books
Can't even believe that to see you must look
And the past drifts on fast but no evil perceiving the fact
It's that matter is vastly more evil then good
When that rips and has landed, eclipse on your stance
While you drift on this planet...
Don't add to the piss, try to limit the damage
@Plot