a world in motion and who would,
who could guess the next rhyme
bliss, hope, and horror
tyrants falling, resisting, raising
fresh terror in sheep's clothing
these are mental wars, fake news tsunamis
feasting in our blood in our sweat in our tension
the invaders possess our minds, our souls
these are reality games, the most dangerous
who cares about facts or consensual reality
humiliation, helplessness, loneliness
manipulated in the transition between nothingness to utopia
an acid destroying the human form and social body
they can feel again after a long apathy the call to heroic action
let's not be afraid, the tyrant is inside and we kind of know it
I look at the face of nothingness, of dread
no power no reason no words
dread is alive too

We practice serenity
with each day that we receive.
No search for amenity
just live off of what we believe.
No shortness of want or need,
look how easily we breathe.

That’s where the old snake stopped me
from attempting to grab the fruit.
There was endless crop to see
there was infinite loot.
We’re living in paradise lost.
We’re living in paradise lost,
and I don’t ever want to be found.

No much more to gain,
we shower within the rain.
Maybe I could stop this train
maybe you could stop the pain.
We have no short of grain
we have no hate or bane.
Rocky Mountains or flat plain,
delusional but still sane.

That’s where the old snake stopped me,
and told me that I need not pick.
The fruit was freely dropping,
raining down so strong and quick.
We’re living in paradise lost,
with nothing bringing us down.
We’re living in paradise lost,
and I don’t ever want to be found.

The inventionts moves on
To created the technological utopia
It is the time of modern creation
No Time for the technical phobia

The modern machinery
In rapid change
Replaces the old engineery
The old technology is not more engage

We will be the slaves of technology
Giving up our freedom
The old times a mythology
No need for old engineery custom

The future will be soulless machinery
The Future of emptiness
The Technology of slavery
The technology of hoplesness

In the pasture of moonlit dreams
they sought the music and the seams
of realities caged by beams
of light hidden in a tomb of sins...

With brush
and pen
they strove
again
to awaken a long-lost friend

Humanity's aid, the devil's ruin,
a savior beyond what's worth pursuing,
for all are judged by saviors awakened
cast in iron
cage awaiting
time unwrought from plans abating
devil's deeds no longer
contemplating
their yields and wicked whims
now dating
cobwebs conjured
by idleness, hungered
schemes distorted
abandoned plunder
salvation came to the sleeping world, hence
for the devil's slothfulness made pence
duplicity broke itself in twain
devils freed and angels made
war in heavenly realms abound
demonic trickery, no longer purchase found
light shone down from truth above
o'er horizon, burgeoning sun commanded its wake
cast its sight upon the world
devils expired as does smoke unfurled
as do shadows in all-consuming light, unmade
and what became of that world then?

When the sun may set, we shall learn again...
What darkness shrouds, we forget, so too the pain,
for what the light sears, the darkness cools,
and what the light frees, the darkness feeds,
what the light starves, the darkness protects,
what the light feeds, the darkness drains,
what the darkness drains, the light protects,
what the light protects, the darkness hungers,
what the darkness hungers, the light favors,
what the light favors, the darkness despises,
what the darkness despises, the light understands,
for well made plans cannot thrive in darkness alone,
if the light should reveal the plans to be tainted
the zenith of sun shall burn the plagues of satan...

Take me to the crystal rivers that flow
with calm pristine diamond torrents that glow.
Take me to where all seasonless yields grow
from the effortless hands of men who sow.
Take me to lands of neither high nor low,
where equality reigns with none below.
I see meadows lush that men do not mow.
I see people who do not toil for dough,
with minds innocent, and without a foe,
beaming with smiles radiant that overflow.
In gardens green where sorrow does not show,
kindness is what all men their neighbours owe.
For all men do not accusations throw
at their neighbours calm who vice do not know.
Where each man with a cheerful heart says hello!