An intervention from God played for a laugh.

"Where the wind blows, that's where I go."
               -Daniel Johnston

Smoke like weaving
Through my controlled and safe space.
Life is an act of plagiarism
From which the smoke will escape.
Any idea is obscene
When a TM is involved.
To wake from the dream
But still lost in the fog.
A mechanism of terror
Or, a giant god that got.
"We were told in error
That our soul can be bought."
His mechanical legs
Leave a footprint a mile wide.
His iron soul  wakes the dead
While his eyes see where angels reside.
The Kaiju he seeks
Alternates in the matrix of things.
With a sword for the geek
That feeds off of screams.
They struggle in conflict
As life lives on
Both are catatonic
In the madness of there bond.
Science as magic
An atheist mystic with games
That plays on the tragic
desire to regain ownership of a name
That shakes the world with ever step.
As an idol maimed the same
As an old testament that crept.
To take from the living what little is left.