Backstories

Anarchy incited by consciousness divides deeply rather than conquer those already sleeping evermore the same, those who have, who have not shills at a game of chance fill the room, persuasion the game populated backstories idealize and idolize submission turned up volume can’t let me think I can do anything about it take my word for it...you’re mine...heartbeats synchronized oh, how sweet it is to be loved by you... Poisoned in the great well, Lucky Charms soothe I remember, I forget and so the wheel turns...those who do wake up sometimes it seems go back to... my heart, if really mine, saddens to think the gold is only water paint and it too shall run away... I wrote this after reading about Osho...what happens to our Guru’s or beings of great spirit? Does our society mock and loosen their fabric of gilt? Does it become the fabric of guilt? I know not...I wish I could see from this vantage point beyond the illusion of this world...from this protected innocence...I crave knowing the truth...