Sunder the Underground

I'm underground, sunder bound

To wonder around and blunder downed

Drowned down in my own sense sound

As I see the undone become the found

Let me ask, let me task

Let me pass, let me pass

I'm on jet control minus some role gas

As I reverse front to back, then attack

Painted up black lackin', trackin', mackin' cataracts (lacking, tracking, macking)

Lost my eyes back in Iraqs

I'm blind, do the addition, I subtract minus inner sinus vision

Then I act, break the tact, of society; notoriety with fiendish piety

A facade, of odd, so you sit and nod

As beats rearrange your proverbial pod

A non-verbal swerve full of knowledge shod

Others you have heard, but my voice is God

So silence thought or be brought for trod

Not your King but brother, no "kneel before Zod"

It's just that my flow is odd like a rod used for catching cod

The fish? That dish? I wish!

Delish. Instead a mix

Of manic swirls, panic twirls

Whirls chased to furl

In sundry dresses and church hurled worlds