The battleground created from darkest intent
brought to light with a torch to catastrophize
cobwebs, deceitfully woven to contain fluid knowledge
My personal Library of Alexandria scorched
Idiocracy with a twist of lime and soapy cilantro
I am reminded that I murder in color faces past
When the joke ends and my power returns.
Living in a second hand version of real/altered reality
Knowing that death isn’t inherently sad, it is transition,
makes the difference between knowing and understanding.