Pawn Kings

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Wealth is a means to an end.

The separate versions to the same Mercedez-Benz.

People upright, walking in the valleys, concrete is the air and skies;

the workers abide.

And the king’s watching eye.

Seeing the great cosplayers gamble with their souls and lives-

for does not power fall into charismatic hands?

Why buy off, what you can convince to listen?

Why force an occupancy, of what you can be given?

The birds fly over man-made bridges; the sun over empire state buildings:

If the crown is invisible; words into understanding-

does not power fall into the minds of they whom envision it?

Seeing while standing in the troughs of the severed ghettos-

the fashioning of every man to be likewise; into armies-

and endlessly morphing alike…

Copyrightcopyright July 10, 2018

Dystopian Walkers

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Trees glow with a neonic hue;

bones are gold with lights–

the faces are faceless, with every strength and ounce of mights.

The women are but made from wood and agony, with tears to crystallize the face-

the men are but stone without hair or nails, and bodiless in form and fate.

The eyes are just painted murals, without a life source–

the chin is but a lump of flesh, turned to stone by slithering harlots.

The clouds within the skies, like floating eyes, too-

the rain is tears; the gathering of fears-

the men in the shadows, in normal attire. No name but with a purpose: to gather, to gather…

They who erase their own lives, and gather through the threads.

They who know you by name, by houses. Like reading numbers stamped on our heads

Copyrightcopyright July 10, 2018

Humanity’s Overture (Overscoria)

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The beating heart of the ribcage, meets to greet;

the shapening hollow-ways–

ending the blinking eyes.

The envy of rain, to fall from. The days, embedded in the days of days.

Yes it would seem that both the hero and the villain, carry the same rage.

Except the villain uses it to destroy, and the hero uses it to destroy the villains: Therefore, define both?

Each created by their choices. The fork in the road–

dashing against the unknown. Until shone!

The flight of your destiny’s might.

And–

by way of your own selves are you made known.

All in all: the tree swings its bark; The animals depart.

The sea embarks; Ideas shapeshifts. Night and day; vanquishes reign.

So too do we all: hero or no. Young and old.

Alive or dead.

Beginnings or end-

Fathomless is the hanging overture of humanity in fate’s grip again…

Copyrightcopyright July 8, 2018

Elysium Wars

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We have ourselves a dogfight, in

Elysium.

Where the daylight shoots rays like lazers against the darkness.

Until all is covered in light.

The snow is tears, the winter goes cold, and freezes over.

The mirror reflects endless eyes shone.

It is the infinite overture, that humanity imitates.

It is like your bodies the wooden bars, and your minds the inmates…

Copyrightcopyright July 4, 2018