The Space Invaders

Ghost is whispering through solid understanding,

the spy in the dark cave is twisted in my divine illusion

behind his fearful spineless back, I’m standing my ground

the infinite circle.

I’m blowing softly in the pale colours of his neck

to make it clear again to come back home,

hoping he still knows how to fall with some dignity,

with grace

his weak knees ready to bend.

He will start crying, begging for forgiveness,

no method could give you that.

(Some victims are aware of this trying in vain

from the beginning of time).

You could know that I’m untouchable

many experienced paths of enlightenment

to prove it, your context failed, there is no free market,

I’ve got your Soul

under consideration and I’ll give it back in time.

Your pimped up throne is made of high-tech frustration

worthless plastic dust,

you are just too late to indicate this natural source

that got you now.

(I could force you to be free).

The Mirrormachine reflecting every element

back to your burning desire

and knows very well you’re an ignorant fool,

but not the only one.

To all the leaders of the world,

Ask Help! Your frequency is underneath the standard nature

Your in the underground right here, right now!

(It’s a terrible sight to see your heart disintegrate

to become infected dust between the cosmic pages

of our universal library of Love).