Not rainbow hued,
Have transcended into my imagination,
Clogging its sensitivity to reveal hard truths;
Truths, about worlds that have emerged
Within my world.
Truths about closing gates, chains forged of new metals
That clash against bullet proof glass dungeons
We the People, outside,
Stare at the prisoners.
Artists draw them, sculpt them, creating poetry
Off trapped lives, bleeding, in front of our very eyes
Was there ever such a thing?
Ask a mind locked in a time loop of horror;
With nothing to lose, no one to accuse but silent Destiny.
Shrouded in white she stands,
With one word etched on her shield,
*Terms and Conditions Apply.
Oh, she left on the last train to Cloudland.
She lives there, cherished by the scarce souls,
Who dared, to reject, the end of innocence.