Realization

There are times that we forget that resign from neglect, we never realize all the steps that we get just to walk through to stop falling indirect, the people are chanting and screaming out loudly, while the souls are a melancholy of something sorely falling, we forget about the bonding and the lines that we've broken just like the sidewalks cracks where we found our golden token, the spare ignorance of those who have plenty while others are dying to find something heavenly, praying in disbelief when hell breaks loose, the mask wearing collars don’t realize the truth. Like a needle in a hay stack I seek to find my ticket but it’s hard enough when people are relevantly different, the ones that condemn to the cost of one’s greedy peripherals I stand by my own to grant to those miserable, leading fake lives with no ties to colonize and prophesize bullshit that you should make you realize and open wide and spit out those heavy screaming lies that you've taken to your grave even though your still alive.

Planting the seeds to follow the progress of making it in life when all is processed, the polluted have risen and now they’re showing their mind sets, imitating projectile weapons like tiny particle viruses allowing their pockets to rise like Columbus and his colonists. The rape of our cranium has deliberately changed our point of views on life, now all we seek to find is immoral pay with a few kids and a wife, working around the hour just to get by realizing that the man is nothing but a lie, seeing as others would rather do the crime for the reason that this life is running out of time. Jammed inside a cage like a perpetuated animal seeking to set free on a voyage, that’s understandable, but projecting yourself as a label is nothing but insecurity, forgetting what life is and the beauty of creativity. Originality was the origin of all that has made life, man-made machinery is nothing but a lie, an illusion that pursues ones intimate thoughts allowing them to believe everything will be alright, when in reality we’ve lost our hope and the meaning of life, the dreams we once spoke of are now perishing on sight.

Patriotism was lost at the hands of the government, while art is a form that has no righteousness, no controlling over seers that command what they wish, art is a life form that makes each of us exist, painting away through brushes covering up the pain seems more of a moral tactic than smothering our shame, setting foot on heavenly plotted soil then burning it red is a greater turmoil, let us reach for our vendetta and seek the greater path that allows us to choose instead of dying with the past. If imagination were a human then her touch would reminisce, giving nothing but excitement to those who were dismissed, changing the way we live from the birth to a kid is an evolution that gives us reason to live.