There's no... Glimmer.
No, sheen or glint.
There's not a single hint
of iridescent shimmer.

There's no learning,
nothing here to glean.
I've checked between
the lines, discerning
only a hollow vastness
where others have seen
bits of what it all means.
I've found only plastics.

Torn and terrible,
the way I've been.
A living dream,
nothing's untearable.

Ellen said to Steve
the serpent turned into a snake
in the old ring of trees
just look at us honey
we wanted to have followers
and so did he.

There's an emphasis placed upon
the thorn
The impact of a summer storm
But while mans asleep
there's a real solution
We are free of light and
and noise pollution
Flaunting life now seldom seen
The wildlife back in the dream

Letting go.
It can’t get to me.
Everything dies.
And what’s left is me.
What I want.
Where I am.
The place I created.
The love for people, places and sounds.
Stripped down.
Still a creature.
I’m everything.
Yet nothing lasting.
Yet never dying.
Always changing.
But my love remains.

Even if in reality it hurts so deep
we often choose the path of least resistance and will remain
content with our oppressors.