We have been; Tortured with agony, The pleasantry being left to rot in ruin. Progression; The dictator of the cyclones, That which devastates the drones. No matter how we think, Disaster smashes even; Thrones. The moment is uttering. Who are we; To resist to fight for the future? Which is rolled; out of the bags of the immature. You have the ability to capture, What should cross the line or not. Personalize; your season. The time for being selfish, has faced depletion. Personalize; your outcome. You can nurture the Society; persuading it to do good, Get them get in the mood. Why should you fear? When you have at least; an ear to hear, a nose to sense, a mouth to speak or taste; a hand to feel, a leg to stand with? You have so much ability to bear, The burden of the society. It is about time that; that we have to work, as a single body to purge, what is not supposed to be seen on the page. In whatever line of work, that you do; pu
Getting you closer to the Omniscient One through artistic true activity.