The Shadows

There it sprung,
An eruption of imagination,
Breaching like bricks stacking
Threading to skies rising, flaunting.
Mesmerizing like a fountain.
But its reason bares no nutrition,
Be of no nation,
No leader of constitution
Nor the conscription of freedom.

As its body formed,
We began to see its dysfunction
Its division of our unity, our assimilation,
It was wrapped in words of illusion
But our comfort gave it no rejection
It grew its tissues of metals and erosion,
Like Dermestid beetle to death,
Its appetite became compulsion
Yet still,

We let its assembly proliferate
Into our very function,
Congesting our streets
Injecting perversion into our children,
Its fingers stretch without oppression
Like Satan and snakes constricting our connection
A dealing of deception,
A gamblers addiction
A poison of extortion and corruption.

We follow with little action,
Watching, as if tomorrow, all will be union,
But lies and truth cannot live in cohesion,
As if be water and fire, a contradiction.

Its windows tinted, a segregation
We be not granted dissemination,
We are given only reflection,
Voyeurs be the Warden,
We walk in bars and alleys of Truman.

Every floor mocks our presence
Our objection
We are seen as pollution
An insect in need of a permanent solution,

A scheme for our extinction
Or be cattle for medication
A vein for twisted instruction,
They fear our rebellion
But its height is quite an inflation

Its foundation, be delusion.
A morality of global mutilation,
The degradation of faith
And sovereign, illumination.

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Just a man beneath the thumbprint of God. A man wandering like any other, wondering what will come of him.(Instagram @poemjunkybiffle)

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Micah Biffle

Micah Biffle

Just a man beneath the thumbprint of God. A man wandering like any other, wondering what will come of him.(Instagram @poemjunkybiffle)

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