becoming a better person
Digital Imprint
Old world politics reversing hands of time,
A backward destination to when domination was not lost,
With limited information, tick the correct box,
Nothing is as dangerous as an opinion formed in asphalt.
Hammer away at the subconscious,
Let sleeping morals die,
Create a panic to silence an uprising;
Using children as a shield for ignorant lies,
Dial a fear to deliver a repression,
What is cornered can only hit back harder,
We are not passive; we are the temperate of men.
A war in the background of digital distractions,
The winner is the oppressor, the hand cast in gold,
Pay for the bail, then no crime was committed,
Never a rich man wore a noose like an heirloom:
Wicked indulgence passes the priest’s hand with silver.
A confession makes an obscenity a right,
Mechanical error in the beating of a heart;
Strangers spit poison, are we on our own, or an occult?
The fence divides, but it offers protection,
To sit, and ponder; to blame, and claim,
No right to an opinion, the guilty remain.
The illusion of the loyalty of slavery,
Truth is an adversary dressed in cheap clothing.
The age of enlightenment became overshadowed by reality TV,
Creation began to burrow, the death of self-control.
No love lost on splintered shores,
Ignorance buries its head,
While creation dies, greed and hunger prosper:
Futile are the ones who never believed to dream.
Escaping Into Reality
Caked in dust, absorbed in other people’s memories,
Breathing crisp air at the breaking of the wall.
Tapping into the potential of everything that could be,
Barbed adrenaline furiously pumping at the gears.
Winter’s song chills the breath of those who sing it,
Icicles form on the trail of captured breath,
On the tail end of disaster that greets all with a smile,
Escaping into reality, as pieces of the subconscious die.
Plucking away at the vitality of nature’s core,
Winds howl as trees writhe in agony,
Like old bones to youthful pressure,
How we wrap our skeletons to hold in the warmth when we feel alone,
Unique vibrations that resonate are seen as glitches of the soul.