Freedom is simply a façade to the fact that we are all slaves to ourselves.
Beauty is only genuine in our material creations.
Beauty is something that we have conjured in our polluted minds,
as a stepping stone for hope of something better and concretely pleasing.
Oasis’s were created to give us peace of mind from the terrors of the rest of the world,
but while we sit and admire the soft billow of the wind,
and the gentle grace displayed by the adolescent creatures that appear out of the creek,
the tornado of destruction lives on inside each and every one of our forlorn and despair ridden souls,
creating what is the rest of a fearful society,
fretting the day they carry their misery over to the realm of the next.
Benevolence is foreign.
So disperse yourself if you wish in blissful ignorance,
worrying only about the direction of the cool breeze that playfully tassels your strands,
but dare ye turn blind to the authentic  substance this cruel cycle of life and existence,
understanding will never become native in your heart.