Psalm 41

I’ll furnish you with another quick tempered love song, for a vampire once sinking his teeth into my neck, bound and tied.

I am now deliverance with a silvery snake-speak skilful tongue, in cheek, reading a full deck now I’ve tidied, up your Goliath mess.

Your street king and my regal queen lock heads, at whose behest, a sword sworn into a tall order by a bishop none the less.

Thought yourself sufficient, bro, unhand me and take your meds, love in play, black and white cheques.

Messrs. Madness, and Mayhem, they’ve checked out, they work for me now, I claim them.

Messiah that you are, mere antics of a princess, provider and protector, pah! Pariah! A delinquent conquest.

In how many languages did the lesson need to be learned, and heard, didn’t I already see how many times my lines had been shirred and blurred.

Tried and tested in every which way quantum physic four-dimensional capacity, what gave you any right to be out here collecting up all this sure shot audacity.

Making a shawshank out of your redemption, placating your story as truth, honour and sanctity. Move from me.

So I can start believing in God again.