They got bling; gold teef, and loot, growing exponentially from 75 years past beef
They got more juice on the street
2003, bout this time, punks tried drive-by on the Son’s South-side crib.
Punks got electromagnetically BTFO'd by Svalinn and sheit!
In the words of Super Dave Homestrong, on how the Son’s will fare, the exact words he came to use
“THE FUTURE WILL BE THEIRS.”
Note on Poem: I write this during the 2020 Wuhan Plague. Chaos above, chaos below. My own personal life (microcosm) is in major transition and anxiety has doubled his efforts at disturbing my peace. BUT I FEEL MORE POSITIVE FOR THE FUTURE THAN I HAVE MAYBE EVER!
I feel the old order dying within me as it dies in the world before us. A new Dawn draws near. We now break away from that which holds us back; our crutches, enmeshments and addictions.
We have to do our part in overcoming the weakness, ugliness, and disorder within and without. The Son's of Bor are watching, they'll provide opportunity but they don't tolerate free-riders or shirkers.
The future will be theirs. This thought is my peace.
And it is in this peace that I leave this work.
Last Edit: Apr 20, 2020 13:59:11 GMT by xio: weissubergruppengeist cometh