The temporal war is a fictional wheel that is a metaphor for something real. Are you ready for it? In your dreams when inception nanotechnology teems in streams of consciousness and a false reality sets in. A revolution birthed in a single night without a struggle or fight as the soldiers begin to find they are pacified trapped in their own mind. With no freedom of speech, no arms to bear, as liberty dies because the truth is restrained to validate the lies. An angel plays the harp on a yellow submarine emanating light that crashes into the heating atmosphere, and it’s dragging a tempest in its wake until it reaches landfall where the hurricane begins to break. A lone star in the sky as a satellite passes by ready to glow invisible bright as the electric day turns to perpetual night. It is time to embrace your inner green spoon as all the silver and gold turns to ruin. Thrown in the street as each ambassador dies, as Enemy spies plot scapegoats to cover their lies. Snitches get stiches in their Ebola infected eyes, and they must blind all those who are wise. They cremate the highest court while they trample His vineyard in sport. First by water then by fire. Destroy those who destroy the Earth with flying scrolls of fixed girth laced with nuclear rage. First by water then by fire. Our eyes stream with a deluge of tears followed by your worst scorching fears. Red herring here red herring there don’t look here, look there, why are you looking at me? It is not polite to stare. The lion has no courage, the tin man has no heart, and the public is not very smart. A straw man with an empty brain to make them think our opposition is insane. The evolution of deception hits a new low as its priests in colleges get rich and fat while they slander their opposition with implanted psychological operations promoting the Earth is flat.
Will William mount the white horse as a prince of lies? Cancer grows like a weed in the sea as irradiated patients die. Don’t forget the tea. Is it raining men in the skies or was the war on Christmas just a jesting guise? As the red horse’s fire and fury rained down on me, but I didn’t submit with bended knee. The canary in in the coal mine is just fine they jest, we always keep one alive for now and bury the rest. A carrot for the black horse before grandeur dies. A ration of wheat for spreading our lies, three rations of barley for believing our guise, your day’s pay because you have no spine. Don’t harm the oil or the wine. Computer viruses, plague, and disease as humanity loses their soul to the lies in a satanic sneeze. Bless you with a scorching summer breeze. Bye bye miss American pie, when the pale horse rides, the levy is dry, the zombies are nigh, and those who return to their vomit die.