Loosen your mind to please the path- the length of eyes sagging like breasts
Too perfect for fear, the currents afford the pages of plastic hallucination
Traveling to escape affairs
The disenchanted playful markets turn to grave robbing games
of distress. Subdued by the panic of computer demonstrations
The question not handed down the long chain of incidents in secret anxiety
About war within the spirit of humanity that rages,
waning the question of the self.
Who is not waiting with eyes entrenched to see the starlit beauty
and grab the hour blessed?
Who is not mastering secular branches for dominion over others?
Who is not infected by their in-affection?
Dying internally, The Socratic wanderer fears the first loss of cramped structures, waiting to spill his seamen down the turbulent checkered drain because its desire is ecstatic and unfulfilled. Pleasure is easily attainable in robotics stimulation; adulterating reality,
History is re-written in televised smiles and cheers
Not Warned of the danger, bare chests are sent to the poor boys fighting for our future
the object of war is still great the arousal of death
Amid bowels enriching the grim stalled deception-succeeding numbers proclaimed through marches.
As a homeless spectator gives attention only to the draining water of power attempting save the artificial pigeon holing of an individual standing to keep from extinguishing the only significant architecture demonstrating phantorgasmic escapism, fielding imagery, trying to find his way back home.