Are my looping lyrics worth a good read? Nothing is worth the time and study if it doesn't, somehow, change you. My words cannot compare to such things as war or any force that takes weight on a global scale. Perhaps I am a General, my soldiers...my words. Three come together to form a team, the opening of my poem, the lure I cast to cause your eyes to drift over to my territory. If I make four sets of these I'll have a line, my first squad is complete. With three more of those I'll have my first poetic platoon at full attention, the first stanza complete. Onward, with a few flicks of the wrist and the point of my pen. I stand now three stanzas in, a whole company waiting whimsically to grab hold a reader. Just in case you aren't caught in my syntactical trap yet, let my battalion role through. Twelve sets metered...beating you, boxing you in. And if that isn't enough for your white flag, I still have my brigade; three times the amount of lineal language lifting your conscience, or perhaps making you feel as if doom looms within.
At the end though, your choices pick the locks of my success, not my force. I am a fool to think the war I've waged could mind fuck you as much as the real ones you've seen.
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