My brain is like a top of the line
Graphics Chip, only second from the best;
A fragmented, but top of the line Hard Drive 
With perfect recall; top of the line qRAM cards
And a Quantum Single Core Processor;
With a top of the line sound card,
Second from the best..

My graphics chip, is because I have Phantasia, and not Hyper-Phantasia.

My Hard Drive because I have great recall of events that have happened,
Even as far back as the age of one and a half.

My qRAM because my mind wanders all day, every day, and randomly bring back memories
So Qubits are the only thing that can run a Quantum Processor.

A Quantum Single Core, because my mind is singularly focused
And can only run one program at a time,
But I see through dichotomies, and see things through multiple layers and dimensions
While comprehending things without having direct evidence--I make pretty accurate leaps like in Calculus
By predicting the patterns.

My sound card, because I have near perfect pitch---
Not perfect pitch, but near perfect pitch, as my Memory cannot keep track
Of all the different pitches to have perfect pitch;
But I can recognize pitch when I hear it, and have something to base it off of.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PP5XRxFgRlY

The weal of time is good, I say
As Robert Burns, Clive Lewis, gay,
Sings a song of Satan's din
Of the horrors of science been
Born of man who did gross deeds---
The moon of Sin is looked at clean
Where strange wars are fought in mental sides
And the miser of the world commits suicide.
For the frightened fact of great all tamed
Deceits of riches and worldly fame
Is to be ever lived upon this Earth;
But my love, such could only be a curse.

Life eternal here, with no green, no blue, no slime
And no sex, no food, no love, just unending time;
Hell  it would be to me, for all that'd be left is crust;
Die and be buried, ashes to ashes be dust:
For life eternal here is hell,  you would soon find;
Even with all the creature pleasures for your mind.

The stars go on their course, 
And the Dragon morphs before
My very eyes--his red eye moves;
There fought with David
Who struggles with Goliath
And Elisha's Bear stands close behind.
The Pyramids have a secret unlocked---
Or so says all the evangelists,
Great depths of catacombs
Impossibly drilled kilometers deep
Which I know must be modern---
I say it is the palace of a king
And his underground hot springs.
Egypt and Babylon were opposite---
Egypt artistic, humorous, and fat
Babylon calculating, defensive, and harsh.
For the great society of empires
They begin light, free and perfect
And humanity dwells most richly in their bones
And due to complexity they grow tyrannical---
For complex civilization grows more controlling.
And  then they die  by the hands of barbarians
And the peoples are once again free.
And we can hold these views simultaneously
That on Planet Earth there are always  
Good and Bad civilizations;
The despotic is in us as well as liberty.
And oh Northern King of Grecia
Edom you are called---
You make your house upon the moon.
Oh Southern King of Persia
Egypt you are called---
You make your house in the depths of the Earth.
Edom, you torment your foes in your prisons upon the moon
And  gaze at Jotunheim beneath the Earth's circle, and the continents a crown;
Egypt, you Dragon of the Sea, fill your hot springs in your chambers
And have a door to hell, which you walk through into the Layer of Beelzebub. 

The law is abolished.
Therefore, every sentence
Is cut off, and we live free.
Not so we can sin,
But so we cannot sin;
Not so we can live in unrighteousness
But so we can indeed live righteously.
For no one has reason to do what is right
If there is no reward left for them.

Joy, 'tis more deep
A well than melancholy.
Deepest of the treasures
For it is very easily lost
And Melancholy easily gained.

A prophet is not 
A fortune teller. No.
A fool tries to predict
The future.
A prophet is a witness,
Interpreting the things
Seen and unseen.
Drawing out its meaning.

Therefore, prophecy is not
A prediction, but a warning.
A reminder of what
Will be if keeping
On the present course.

Thus, prophets seek
Out what is deep,
To furnish joy in the world
And stay back many sorrows.

A minor nation we may be
Antique and all alone,
In dark days clinging to old canticles.
But bright is the ancient fay
Of true religion in its day
When the world turned to its weird of Atheism.
Druids worship by sex and murder;
We, so peaceful, with a joyous song.
We harm no one, but are hated
For we shun all that is strong.
We by peace and love do worship
And by gathering alms for the poor.
We worship with the Mass
And Christ's bread and wine adore.

How I wish I had clung to you closely
Instead of Christian Protestantism.
For you're a form of Christianity
Pure and untainted by the world's weird.
Just be a good person, and believe Christ.
No need to make it harder than that, now.
I see the Protestant evangelist
Rebuking his grandmother, saying, "Please
"Accept Jesus as your LORD and Savior."
She already did, you silly dove, more
Soundly than anyone else you know of.
For to know Christ, and say, "I follow you,"
That is enough. God never punished one
Who did what was good and true. Just believe.
I praise American Folk Religion
More than I do Protestantism. For
It leads people to backward ways, foolish
And dark... and The Religion of the Folk
Is indeed the Christianity I 
Remembered, and though we sin and do wrong
No one has to know about it, so we
Can live peaceably with God and Neighbor.