Topic: True change takes place in the imagination
Imagination: Forming mental images or concepts of what is not actually present to the senses.
Wings flit parting clouds that are passed.
A path lit dimely is perilous; brash.
Each star represents life, but too bad,
Death's existential in light, News Flash!!
Each shimmer above is a twinkle that's fried.
The sad truth is, living is the reason we've died.
Hear the noises; the rumblings at faults,
The towering seas devouring with showering falls.
Bolts striking land; beauty consumes,
Her Oxidic fumes being Dragon breath that exhumes.
Approach this aftermath, so peaceful and calm.
Dead humanoids mean less evil; alarmed?
Think of a song; rhythmically sound.
Brass winds blowing a tempo that's found,
Drums trembling ground,
dancers flowing around...
Trampling this gift once renowned.
A precious land won't withstand our detractions denounced.
Taste the depth, the fiscal cycle of breath.
Each check riled in debt.
Bitter conquest – this putrid, vile regress,
Currently siphoning jest through eyelids perplexed.
Cash it all in, using stylish cheques.
Each dialect bets on there currency's quest.
Tasting famine and death, handing out not a cent.
Bent on hells lapse of judgment –
Take each lick with a grin.
Smug, each wince is distorting reverence.
Taught respect, but who can pretend?
Lust of wealth has evolved into loving one's self.
The canvas has been shelved.
Both the brush and inkwell.
If stories breed truth... Doesn't matter,
Movies' what sells.
Images branded into rare garments that melt.
This hardening shell is molten –
and the chosen ones swell.
Meanwhile the broken down populace are poor and in hell.
Now...
If the picture is crystal, even if not,
just know, a soul lost is one bought.
The toll is a road narrowly taken,
Each faith's been complacent.
Angels and Demons adjacent.
If one can change these nonfactual statements?
Then read and learn,
Life belongs to death...
And She's His –
Get free from enslavement.
~