Utopia

 And just when the world

broke itself 

in chunks of sheer trepidation,

searching the canvas,

to bleed upon

and avenging the turmoil,

vorasciously serpented, 

the door was opened.

And in, 

flew the dust. 

On each piece.


A shadow cast of ivory,

desperately disparate souls,

The Holocaust,

but even more brutal. 


The eagle speaks of doom.

It's feathers procured 

with disbelief,

screaming with silence. 

It beams the dark.

Redeems the violence.

Like a soft eruption,

a storm that awaits.

It's the bloodshed 

that's flooded.

And with the obscure

sanity of the insane,

a dream is made. 

The dream-

Devour! 


Footsteps are seen,

pretentious, 

pretending to behold,

but surrendering

peace with each piece of the world.

The dream of fault

this shadow behaves, 

and among the weeds,

a seed is planted.


And again, in the burning symphony of silence, 

the eagle flies.

Fingers are raised.


The resemblance is uncanny!

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