The Jungle

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The jungle is alluring from the outside
Because groups of elegant trees
Invitingly line the seemingly endless edges
But no one knows anything about its heart

At the End of the north side of the jungle
Lie several volcanoes of various sizes and colors
Bubbline with ire and exuberance
The volcanoes regurgitate tumult onto the surface

At the End of the south side of the jungle
There is a sinuous river that flows with irregularly
Unlike beautifully shaped man-made river
This river flows naturally and gallantly 

At the end of the east and west sides of the jungle
The conditions of the earth are the same
The Surfaces glisten brightly with oil
And are covered with short white weeds

The entrance of this jungle is on the north side
However no one is allowed to come in anymore
Two omniscient cameras scan the outskirts for intruders
And an imposing red speaker spews forth propaganda

Although the jungle once welcomed people
Its thick ornamental doors, heavy with rejection
And decades of being padlocked
No longer open for people to enter

If anyone attempts to defile the jungle from within
The jungle would mercilessly obliterate him
There is no forgiveness to be had
Only harsh punishment for misdeeds

The signs of terror from inside its depths
Will endure until the end of time
And those signs invariably lead to
A darker, more ominous side of the jungle






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