A Flat World

An increase in numbers;

The quality of humanity it seems,

It’s not always unto imagination in which possibility feeds.

Seldom days left of relinquished memories,

Fading into the daylight dawning of breathless intake.

For the rock we live on doesn’t clearly state its need for living,

Less, even the request of buildings as keen as the makers.

As wandering souls take up their place, so the King creates mystery—

No knowing of being obsolete neither fathoming their decent to decomposition.

From the rounding thoughts of capability comes the rounding of insanity;

Round we go forth to no end,

Until we can grasp something intangible.

Squares no longer reside alone in arithmetic,

Yet knowing triangles becomes blameless,

For the earth alone unites in completeness.

Only one time knowledge speaks of times

And somehow clocks never unwind—

Letting fruits bear from trees and retrieved only to please,

Planning from goals to goats causes confusion beyond any of these.

Singular obscenity fouls further than we know.

Singular pleasure speculates progression to obsession.

Double minds obtain grief yelling “damelo!”

And thrice quantity tells no fortune from “el fin del mundo”

Otherwise roundness foretells of serenity with truth and reality.

No longer is the world envisioned round,

But rather fault with the renewing of sound;

Contradiction on constriction with nothing good to prevent confliction.

Greed partnering with zombies of the modern world,

Starting from a time even before the King was born.

The compression makes this home flat

And depression only confirms relation to that.

Such double-minded animals not caring for simple-minded creatures;

Neither can animals actually cry towards sympathy or anything worthy.

The peace coming from a well-bred symphony

Is only what is heard by this world—

Sitting forth-hence in one Kings company.