The G-O-D

I'm running cutting down trees with fucking swords. I do this at night, not because I think I will get caught, but because I like being hidden. That's an important distinction. I have at least two swords at a time. And I sell drugs. I do it to prove a point. The point is people call me the antihero. 
I wear a black sweat suit and ski mask, black air forces. I hear black keys on the piano, whispering in the trees, rustling; the only sound outside of my speed, agility, my nasty racing through the woods. 
I steal from people. Sometimes they don't know it, sometimes I let them know it. I am like a human air force, a human strike team, guerilla, covert, a rambo-type motherfucker, except I'm fast. And I choose who hears me talk. 
The trees are only a byproduct of my one path: the swords are meant for people. They are vampires and all fang. Some may call me a cog in this system of dark survival- I AM the system. 
This nighttime-creeping that I live in, these acts that I do, this cutting that I rain down most heavily on the cityfolk, is hegemonic. I know that. I LIKE slashing. Most deserve it. They don't know anything about it. That's not an important distinction.
But I've already told you too much... The swords are vampires and all fang. The Swords are the P-R-O-P-H-E-T. The night is the G-O-D. 

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