Escape

I'm a source of heat rising in a pocket of cold,

Which manifests dimensions into branches unknown,

I'm a coat that cozy up to keep the reaper at bay,

The silence in the air when lovers find there's nothing to say.

I should probably build a spaceship for a journey to Mars,

On this earth we have a surplus worthless leaders at large.

In the mutiny there's truly few to form a brigade,

Everyone marching to the beat and let the tyranny play.

The way that things are going you'll be pulled from your home,

For any deviance from narratives you spoke while alone.

You see the force the puppets use when their position is stressed,

They'll let the populace extinguish while the shrapnel is spent.

Anything to keep appearances and hold to the poles,

Climb a mountain to their office made of citizens bones.

I see the people venerating those who sit on the thrones,

Though they are not the ones responsible for building your homes,

All the strife you face in life is yours to conquer alone;

They're gonna sit and watch you suffer while their dividends grow.

I'd rather bail out to a place where there's relatable Earth,

And no swarms of bureaucrats steady encroaching his turf.

Maybe you want to be informed as to your relative worth,

Within these categories labeled from illogical births.

Stay in a orthodox linguistically depleted, perverse;

Weather endless shifting meaning, i will choose the inverse.

— Ace Rey. From The Book of Souls, a first collection in progress.