Beloved and Bestowed.

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Those grievances
Taking a book, I read in utmost contemplation,
For the sorrow that I heard and see.
The distasteful manner of morality,
For the speech they gave, for the action they took,
How pitiful is their aid to the poor.
Sad, weakened, fooled, controlled,?As they speak of morality and truth, many are suffering,
Oh how cruel is it for them, and for us.

For each tear shed, a million pain,
Luxury is but an escape from pain,
Whilst I taste that luxury for myself.
As I envision a world of harmony, unity of creation,
For how many stories they conceive,
Is a million of insults conjured, for they control our words.
My vision is but a passion, a passion that will not be done by lurching,
Each story needs its own happiness, however, sadness and pity fills the space.

How we ourself envision a wonderful dream, contradiction arrives,
Of quantum, of theories, of unity and power, oh how sorrowful they are.
Trying to escape from pain, an image of a creature lurking in the mirror,
But pain is immaculate in its possibility, however powerless they were.
We once stood strong against confection, of incentives, of panic and pain,
Now, looking back, a ruined city, looking forward, a certain destruction.
How absurd it is, for they hold the ultimate power, Change.

Holding a dove, we shatters our beginning, Stupidity
Holding a book, nations we annihilate, Foolishness
Holding a grain, we foster hatred, Absurdity
Nothing anew I spoke, but surprising how others surprise us.
For the penny had dropped, we were once wisdom, it is nothing big, really.
As we can make a positive change, the dove, the books and the grain, bestowed.


A baby, A child, A teenager, beloved and bestowed.





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