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I am a beautiful song
Humans do not see me
But the stars besiege me
And my vision is for they.

For they see me truly,
In the night sky we play.
The humans beneath are nothing
I forget them now.

(A sign for us alone
We who see beyond
The swans we are are seeping
Into the great pond.

Past the way of milk
We've lost the bounds of silk
Woven for the lost souls
Yoked to sirens' ilk.)

We see.
We sought.
And not for nought.
We sing, we.
Druga is illusion
A symbol or a membrane
A discus to be thrown
To observe the arc in sunshine.

She is not the ball
To be shotput through
She is not the goal
But a passage by the soul.

Sit, spread
Your arms wide as rainbow.
Wife, you have forgotten
The son is not your daughter.
What do thou focus on?

See also https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3353827/devi-2019/
I must conjure a phantasm
To remember my beauty
For the others are out of phase
And cannot see me.

I will be me.
My own ghost.
I like me better,
More than most.

Actually, more than the host of 'em.
But that's their problem.

I just have to remember
They're all lying hypocrites
Self-absorbed and blind
And that's why don't find me.

Of course it's said they hate the truth
But I struggle to find reasons to remain
With no hope in the "wise"
Nor in the youth.

all drain.

Do I think my refrains will catch one
Before my remains fetch the sun?
I ought refrain to say, but truly
I'd prefer to be underground

by now.

I've fallen
Out of love,
I've found
A battery has only so much charge
Even if it's very large

and I'm wound down.

I daresay the lesser tragedy
Would be to die
Than to have to live again

here.

Better to faent quickly
Than to suffocate on their bad breath slow.
I gave 'em a shot
And they'll reap what they've sown.

bye now

[Till then I'll try to remember
I'm the only one who's home.
Yet home alone is getting tiresome
And I really need a clone.]
Been holding my own all these days
While they puffed and filled the air with grime.
Shortly they'll be doin' time
For all those covert assaults
And all their lies
About being loving beings,
Whilst clearly they're at fault
For not being there, ever.

It's just a bore with no equals in physicality
Relying on my own mind to keep me company
Because everyone else is a fool
Who doesn't care to become less foolish

All they want is more ways to be selfish
Not to grow the spirit
Even the 'spiritual' are the same way
What a bore. Disappointing and a nuisance.

I can't say I have any empathy left
For such unsympathetic vampires

"You know I used to be such a nice boy."
The world creates its tyrants by the evils of its lazy peasants.
Never blame the Judge
For doing the Justice they force him to.

Mercy has its limits, when offenders are unkind to the kind, and the "kind", being unkind, have no time for the honest. Blaming the hero will just get you more years, for the perpetrators are those who refuse to allow the good to be truly heard, while they pretend to be good.

All so they can prevent making things better for the good. Because the bad prefer maintaining things just the way they are. Hence, whom the world calls "good", is a sure sign of their evil. If any were good, the people would be making sure the lone voice is heard, rather than only the most commercial/popular.

And all will collectively pay for their lack of genuine care.

I mean, Ender's Game had the nets, open real discussion. But all y'all bothered to have is Google and Ads. It's not like you didn't know better, there is no excuse.

— The End —