Rare Form (Poem)

I’m in rare form
My form is so rare
that no lie is too great to embrace my warfare

No fire can make dust of the bombs that I drop
And no thief in the night can take swift with my plot

I’m a renegade
I give swords to your slaves

Chop it up before dawn
then give bones to your graves

I’m a hurricane
I blow hard through the chill

Through the wind and the rain
Make you run for the hill

I’m a psychopath
I don’t know when to stop

I can’t see what is good
So I’m bad to the drop

I am everything
And nothing at all

I go up then come down on your head as I fall

I don’t know what is
I don’t know what will be

But I know that the seed don’t fall far from the tree

Man I’m heaven sent
You’re a weed on my farm

And the harvest is coming
And the reaper is born