A Poetic-Psychegram by Ben Dunk April 28th. 1988.





I am what I am

Who shall equate me

The awful truth is death to the unbeliever in me

Thou shalt not envisage my perception

My perception is sacrosanct

Wherefore no one cometh to embrace my soul

My soul is perfect

It is the remedy of all my actions

The people have spoken

They bow down to the ground to me

Yeah! even into the cold deathly ground they would bow

When I should deign to command their demise

And, I do often command so

They go willingly unto their doom

Even welcoming and perhaps enjoying their cruel fate

Whilst I, capriciously extend their entrails upon the altar of Osirus

The people expect this spectacle

My blessed reign

And, my existence is holy

I am their religion

Born to rule and be immaculate in all my deeds and thoughts

I was born to know all this

The people are born to respect me in every way

I am what I am