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Seven Star – Conscious Evolution

Posted by deejay pr0pa.rations on Fri, November 26, 2010 – 11:03 pm


A part of the elite, architect, elegant, ambitious devils with class. Christopher managed to borrow the cash, the beliefs of the queen along with the mass. Demonic thoughts in his skull like glass, sharp when lunged in a wind blast. At glance they seem to glow, low and behold truth unfolds. Proof savagery eminently awaits, but still their cold affects the souls of what he thought were the Indies. When arriving at an island named Borinquen, the shadows in the trees that were already there to greet him decided to leave that glow sinking at the expense of their extinction. Asking themselves, what kind of god would suffocate, should we kill them all they ponder in the presence of a drowned god. Endorphins started to gather. Striding their inner chaos with three eyes open, rather than panicking their walk displayed the same when they returned to the village. The end of the pillage! The cacique was told, the so called gods are frauds. The bow, the arrow, the spear. Look to your rear, these war assassins are here. Rather be dead than fear. The devils want gold, my people want red war paint.

With a blade he slowly crept behind one of the guards, cut his neck from ear to ear, covered his mouth to silence the screams of fear. Blood dripping on the sand with a signal of his hand he gave the command to stand still like frogs will when a bat flies above looking for prey to kill. Swigging from tree vines, sending chills up spines, one started to run but fell when arrows shot his mind. Hiding in the mountains clouds their judgment, but the worry for the village stands above it and to protect it is to love it. The medicine men cant provide cure or immunity for this disease that spreads. Whole families are dead. They knew the battle would never end. Even if the soldiers on the island were defeated they would send more men. Although it was 10 to 1 Tainos still owned the sun. Tainos still owned the sun!

Hope rested in their hearts in the land once familiar to their eyes now detached apart from its vibration. The smell of death on inhalation disturbs their concentration. Some of them lost their will for meditation. What an unpredictable separation. Betrayal in the air at all moments. A humming of anticipation, mixed with streams of anger displacement, humiliation. They started pilling the dead forming circles, burning the mounds to chants and drums. Sacred spiritual hums vibrated beyond the watery graves of children with holes in their lungs. The skies lit up like comet tails were in the atmosphere. Lost hope orbiting in the black holes of fear. Peer stares at peer and it appears to be clear Evolution has chosen the mere. Conscious evolution, unconscious evolution steered like Ninas, Pintas, and Santa Marias.

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