Means to an end

Means to an End.

We doubting our umblical cord
and hailing the beauty of our beards.   
Burying it yet want us to bury the hatchet.  
We are at the Outpost with no option than to auction
The haemoglobin they altered
We are still in the dark.  
This Humans are still not at peace
With their inhumane touch to the inhumans.  

We hailed the three
Yet our boil is still watery
The mystery behind this divinity
Perhaps it's a mastery of opportunity
Means to an end.  
Pour on the rock blood
I'm not afraid of the insult foolish.  
I'm not engaging in the hypocritical sarcasm
Of the reporters of the Rock of ages.

 
If it's to be empirically done,
Why attached to it a touch of the spirits
Hypothetical hypocrisy healing your wounds
You deny the root
Yet you want to be firmly rooted
Your anchor will not hold, holding to divinity of experts.
I will pour the blood of the lamb
than to accept a lamb of one leaving with me Scars

Who was the watchman before the mission
I need not to even satisfy my curiosity
It's obvious
It's a means to an end.  
   
        

                       Written by
                       Elvis Aseye
                       (Supremowrites).