[Verse 1: Essam Temuri] Spiritual insight, through myopic eyes Seeing the depth greater than anyone could Try to provide this, a menace of logic and Reason-induced hatred of clergy-clearly a heathen But on the grand spectrum, a terrorist Maybe an infidel, maybe a nuisance-known this From the clear blue skies, the eyes, of (k)night Calling me, probably. to scold me, a serf with No direction, not even a priest would provide- Direction-correction-prize in-dignitaries Monetary prize for recovery, in the eyes of God- Maybe a fiend, maybe a thief, maybe a clown- Maybe a dean, of irrelevance, maybe someone Who believes, but yet is often haunted-by Negative comments of being a degenerate-like The artwork he presented [Verse 2: Essam Temuri] Too ignorant, too emotional- This polymath got the door open to Too many option of ridicule-to A pitiful, monetary caste system An undesirable-subject to unthinkable Injustices, fully at the hands of Imams and priests Claiming to be touch by God-higher than the plebeians- Oh Lord, can't even testify with the plebeians- Wandering aimlessly, rarely saved, or Lord These tangents are driving me insane-truly met All of them, Muhammad, Buddha, Jesus, even Abraham, even God- But still inadequate-still irrelevant- Still inadequate-still irrelevant To the point of many damages-taken place At the hands of the (k)nights-at the hand Of the Feudal Lord, scratch that, Feudal Cold-hearted prude, who can't even Understand the words of Echo