The underworld's punisher

[UnbornBuddha]

Snake oil apotheosis is the grossest of notions.
Apothecary patent doses are potent necrosis.
Lotions and liniments composed of cinnamon are sold as the potions
capable of granting devotional souls a motion of knowing all knowing.
A probing of your innermost heart desire to be an immortal moment
Forever spoken as a whisper as the one woven from no thing.
I compel you to pay attention to the cloaking of motives
hiding in between the promise of ending all emotional poisons.
Be careful when negotiating with unsocial bi polars
Especially the older ones whose only ode is thy owner.
Posers who will sell their own mother to an ogre that hungers
Wolves who can be sensed apart because their malodor is stronger;
A fetid scent acquired through amorally leveraging their total grossing.
Processes that required morbidly and mortally severing the holy gnosis.
Behaviors that beckon the approaching of the gate serpents are throw in.
To murder the lowly is to bring about the torture of Olden-
Consequences that guarantee the emerging of no men
Due to the sullying of the life bringing water of Odin.
I remember when the wilted garden flowers were golden.
Thus, extinction prevailed over the incarnate of Nomads.
Parched they begin hallucinating with a manic laughter preprogrammed.
Without strength their unable to roam the uncharted of homelands.
Enchanted by psychosomatic omens-
they begin to barter their daughters proceeding to massacre their own kin.
Finally ending with the cursing of the mandala of the king.
I'm watching the horrors I'm loathing be done, an unfortunate fortune we've molded.
Poachers who've frozen the kidneys of children to exploit an exploding market
In order to get the best quoted bargain. Death their only pardon.
All this talk of wisdom and yet I still haven't lost my illness.
I can't find the root of what haunts my prism.
Ironically pain has numbed my feelings. I long to be christened.
Every plant stalk does differ, but why is the root so implanted in my liver.
Cancer a killer capable of pulling the lever that shatters any hero.
Hopelessness makes one wish for inert matter to hear out
Our pleads for it to implode and return back to before zero.
Lores and mythos draws the psychos out to guard their idols.
Mere amoebas who believe their beloved fortress is vital.
A far fetch cycle elucidated by the Gods of vikings.
My limbs have been crushed when I was a hardened biker
My heart was softened when an accident startled my nerves.
Bursting the terse armor that straddled my heart
My ivory tower collapsed crashing to earth.
It seems I was strangled by the curtains upstairs
All that I cared for became like a virgin I share
Purging her lairs due to the yearning that stirred.
Karma scythes you, citing you a title of burden I wear.
The stories I share are from my own syllabus.
If I had syphilis I'll gladly tell of it when I become well from it
Discovering the wealth in it, the best sedative medicine to its hellishness.
A sickened minion who discovered a meditative medium to health's benefits
Even within the festering myriad of manifest malignant malevolence testing us.
Disaster has made a resilient miscreant who wields the crest of Gilgamesh
Babylon's only civilian to vigorously still impress all real inquisitive literates.
Those inconsiderate of others willingly let the the devil steal their breath.
For the devious I missed I'll get you next time I stamp and seal the print.

Yours truly- King Yama.