Brother’s Blood

When the Conscious arose from its Bedrock Mother,
It took with it the essence that is owed.
Everything is fun and play until this price must be paid.
If Our Mother is Everything, what will she eat and drink
O Child?
It is the blood and body of your dear brothers,
Going back to The Mother sooner than ours.
There is no rhyme or rhythm for Her hunger,
And we,
Within our conscious cloud must reign in our Father’s Name,
Feeding our Mother our Brother’s Blood,
In the Game of Good and Evil.