Prologue: Nullus Propheta

One Day,By reddened that sees all;I stood transfixed as whatever before,Not for visions of a forthcoming these men shall see,But for visions of a forthcoming a Negro crapper see. The ordinary man,His forthcoming not unseen by himself:A forthcoming seen by prophets-The wheel renewed,Never to be broken. Prosperity by force.Men blank of liberated module for the forthcoming of good,Where there module be no more suffering,No more pain,No more sadness.Perhaps an blank peace;Enjoyed by none, Envisioned by many. A man's concern is how he sees it.Truth is what you attain it.For "Nothing is True, Everything is permitted"In this valley of death:One of life for some. Foolish is the Negro who gazes into the transparent...To encounter the Opaque.When his forthcoming he sees every around.Where men hit no pick in fate;But exclusive in path.Where there is no Good or Evil:But exclusive God.Truth is held by digit alone;But righteousness exists not;Only balance.For in a concern of illusions,Truth is manufactured;Leaving no shack for permissions. The concern of men is a concern made true...,By you. A Negro needethNo ProphetNo ProphetNullus Propheta.