I see what you did there universe,

very silent, very subtle, but still obvious.

None of this has been written in free-verse,

but I've yet to decide if this is a blessing or a curse.

They're little things,

cards that match, snap.

Let's see what the future brings

a marble staircase or an iron-barred trap!

I don't believe in coincidences,

see the purpose of historic incidences.

But I measure jewels in joules

in this broken reality,

see the button matches cold calamity,

and how her boot looked just like his did,

but this is no bet, no bid.

If only the masses could look through their logos,

the lion-headed leopards and the checkered floors.

The gateways, the portals, the doors,

the pharaonic monarchy, crush the rose

tainted lenses

and see life for what it really is.

Unplug the wire from behind your neck,

and wave at Dystopia for a sec.

︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎

ద ద 𖦊 ꪉ 𐀔 𐃸 ద 𖦊 ʊ

༒ ༒ ༒ ༒ . . ༒ . . ༒

༒ ༒ ᜊ ༒ ༒ ༒

༒ ༒ ༒

༒ ༒ ༒ . . ༒

༒ ༒ ༒ . . ༒

ద ༒

༒ . ༒

༒ . . ᰔ

༒

༒