Musica Del Inframundo

You have to believe we are magic.
Nothing can stand in our way but ourselves.

We are musical frequencies
The zodiac wheel of twelve.

In thanks to the four directions
I'd sing open the visceral cage.

The songs fly straight to me, telepathically
from a carousel turning age upon age.

Come reunite and harmonize
all the changes to be made.

Everything we sing is from above
preserving life like a summer rain.

The Guardians bequeathed the talking sticks
to bless our way beyond Jeddito.

A meeting place of the Masters.
From middle earth they come and go.

Transition Transmission

I don't need to speak out loud

                             to be heard

I don't need to be classified 

           to become who I am

Collective consciousness is the program

                   within which we all observe

I don't need a safe house

                       to survive

When the time has come

 I will hum my mind's tune

Unlocking the door to my room

to search for those souls still alive

The New Jerusalem is not

                     of this world

It will not be built

by the hand of man

There is only one promised land

For it, not a drop of blood will spill

When all the vestiges of darkness

                       have been defeated

by the knowledge of The I AM

complete with the love of the lamb

Now we may be seated

In our new home we will never be forced to stand

Courtney, Ain't No Love

It was always there like a pit in my heart

His goodness and purity

Outshined your black art

Pulled you apart, so you justified the lie

As good as the Green River Killer's alibi.

Chorus:

I know a lake that you're going to

There's just one thing

It ain't nice and blue

Blue like the eyes of the man who died

and you made us call it "suicide."

He wasn't on self-destruct

You plucked the line from his song

Wouldn't you believe it's just your luck?

You read aloud as millions cried

a letter with no mention of suicide.

You could never clip his wings

Always headed for nirvana

Not unlike the Nazarene

You were always just a bitch

A wannabe rock star witch.

Chorus

I've seen lots of evil

There's just one thing

I see in you.

The killer who cried

 and lied calling it suicide

You played songs you didn't write

and cashed in on his "suicide."


Now, I could be wrong about 

C. Love’s guilt

But some things she said 

were utter filth

She wanted the spotlight on her alone

Perhaps it was a sacrifice to Baal

For which she can never atone.

If someone else did it 

I would be so surprised

But now in 2026 we know 

it wasn’t suicide

Independent research team challenging Kurt Cobain's death ruling
https://share.google/5kvfcrC2RrtaGkWY8