Warrior

Mission Statement

I am a chaotic warrior whose weapons are charcoal, energy and words.

The riddle of the universe lies in one tiny flower. 

Chaos: violence ‘bene’ wars with violence ‘mal.’

And I communicate the weapons as a witch of white malevolence.

Are you benevolent to my power of force?

Malevolent to the purpose of farce? 

My pencil move is delicate.

I know the nuances below the threshold of observable difference, and I hold them in my peripheral vision.

Kinesthetic kinetic power is to grind material to powder, make it flow with oil, water and animal hair.

Have I spoken?

The origin of psychic logic is imagery thought sharpened into word. 

Someone is my magical stone, also.

Surrendering to my dance, I route time, purifying atmospheres of the stench of your decomposing soul.

My body is wise of the earth, whom is my mother and God is my father.

My weaknesses are my strengths.

As the colors float around me, I close my eyes and observe the radiant light pieces among darkness fathoms deep.

The stars educate my body.  

My word is my defense.

I need a moment of time to forge a weapon:

an unstoppable hammer of accuracy and an impenetrable shield of silence are mine.

But I’ll forge a specialized device for you, too. 

Anyone who takes a bullet to the brain can wake up in reality.

The axe of revelation will crack your masques.

In the shadows, I wait with justice. My anger is a whip in my right hand.

My tongue is a cat-of-nine-tails.

Therefore, self-control behooves me.

“Behold, I have created the smith who blows the fire of coals and produces a weapon for its purpose. I have also 
created the ravager to destroy . . .”

    –Isaiah 54:16