The order is in the way its controlled- The clamping of the vices- On either sides of the truth- Compressing what can be said- But people don’t have ears or eyes- To care for the reasons- Why the mystery becomes- Ambiguous in their heads- And those black almond holes- Suck the truth into the vacuums– They’ve contrived- Clarity of thought is disturbed- And a region in the brain- Is thought to cause- The hallucinations that tilt- The axis of reason- The wrestling with consciousness- And with the mastery of illusion- The smoke screen clears- And the hand that waves the wand- Is held by strings pulled by the order- The order of nonexistence- And they decide the fate- Of your next encounter-
Reason for writing:
This is one of those old ones
Birth sign: Libra
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