Religion: the mercenary sword of Luciferian -laws- rendering eternal worship to infinitesimal deception.

John 19:28-37
The Death of Jesus
28 Later, knowing that everything had now been finished, and so that -script-ure would be fulfilled, Jesus said, “I am thirsty.” 29 A jar of wine vinegar was there, so they soaked a sponge in it, put the sponge on a stalk of the hyssop plant, and lifted it to Jesus’ lips. 30 When he had received the drink, Jesus said, “It is finished.” With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.
31 Now it was the day of Preparation, and the next day was to be a special Sabbath. Because the Jewish leaders did not want the bodies left on the crosses during the Sabbath, they asked Pilate to have the legs broken and the bodies taken down. 32 The soldiers therefore came and broke the legs of the first man who had been crucified with Jesus, and then those of the other. 33 But when they came to Jesus and found that he was already dead, they did not break his legs. 34 Instead, one of the soldiers pierced Jesus’ side with a spear, bringing a sudden flow of blood and water. 35 The man who saw it has given testimony, and his testimony is true. He knows that he tells the truth, and he testifies so that you also may believe. 36 These things happened so that the -script-ure would be fulfilled: “Not one of his bones will be broken,”[a] 37 and, as another -script-ure says, “They will look on the one they have pierced.”[b]
A prolix de-script-ion of the incurable cruelty of a loquacious ancient cross bearing witness to a worm-eaten inhumanity tearing down the cursed banner of a horrible existence clothed in the penumbras of an icy substantial nothingness, an eternal traitor who once betrayed the truth of human existence, wanting to celebrate in the unhealthy silence of cold evenings the victory of the night cover over the poet s night , who celebrates the marriage of meaning and the precious word, writing words inspired by the true existence of nocturnal visions.
A long agony of the melodies of life on a land struck by the misery of an ancient cross at which the dusty history of a human afflicted then felled by a sooty fate making suffering a cult to be celebrated saving the criminals from this morbid fate yet delivered to a cursed reef on which their dreams borrowing the colours of the eternal fallen twilight were broken, a sting infinitely crushed by the infinitesimal suffering of souls exiled behind confused walls.
Reserving to the true poet the eruditions, fruits of his existence, pen testifying to the magnificence of the noble Soul savouring the delights of human suffering building the just edifice with a heart-rending cry of a slaughtered child, a son carried in the Soul from the dawn of purely human existence, heralding a spiritual filiation like a sparkling light that spoke in my Soul, carrying the seeds of impregnable knowledge, proclaiming the solemnity of its infinite existence, the eternal purity of a little heart living in the indomitable monuments of the chosen Soul in order to bear life.
On the other hand, in the twilight of the future of criminals, the insignificance of their sufferings, the dark clouds of "religious" festivals rise up, celebrating the interminable worries of a nothingness believing that cruelty is a marauding dagger which seeks in the confused mists an existence to sacrifice in order to feed the darkness with quivers of ambitious arrows!
Semiological studies that gambol in the human mind showing all the pathological signs of the blind shadows of a non-existent "state" and of a justice that hides in the sooty tears of the forest-courts, of the settling of political accounts pierced by the reality of the mercenary sword, the empire of the old mythical snakes decapitating the innocence of the sacred beginning in order to chatter about the application of the "Koranic laws" which executed the little child Yacine Ouichri and which robbed the childhood of my son Ismail Boukordagha, Luciferian laws that give eternal worship to the infinite deception, a hydra snake trying to assassinate my child, years of deliberate de-schooling, repeated physical and verbal violence, testifying to the tragic collapse of the notion of "state" at the foot of a barbaric historical cross murdering the fine delicacy of the word seeking a noble equity leaving the caves of the mount chaambi saltpetre and painted with a ruddy blood poured on the side of the chasms - flags saluted by the eternal traitors applauding the forest execution of the fatherland .

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