The world has set its heart on the claustrophobia of a song

That blinks centuries within an hourglass of powdered mirrors

The waves have attached themselves to violin strings

They plead infinitely, for freedom, from the chains of gravity

Butterflies have learnt to barter themselves on beams of sunlight,

Dancing for promises of elixir, to be fulfilled within short life-spans

Calamity plays its art in obscure theatres with derelict sound systems

Audiences in single digits, smoke their pipes and sigh diamond dust

No one listens to the creaking of the night that labours to bring forth

An infant day, a tomorrow, in chains of platinum that ring like gongs

Lovers cling to each other by moonlight, afraid, of the dawn of truth

The Peacocks believe, they rule by divine right, the sights of all mankind

The world curtsies to tinsel showers that take over with the dark night

Whispers speak to you, saying, that the reality that has been thrust upon you,

Has just been an errant dream of the senses of hopeful persuasion

The nightmares wait for a consciousness to stir within your soul

While you dream with your eyes wide open, chained, to software codes


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