The last act before the walls fall.
But the stringent act is in repair to the ugly wall crumbling stages.
Part are in racing hands, redundant of the moment.
The costly treasure has gone from one hand to another in the last act or final curtain drawn.
It is not an opinion, it is the law down cry of jungle.
Out goes the mention of who you are, of representation, of recompensation mention.
In comes the law of the jungle the spread of sticks and stone.
No thought ever did brave one thought who you are, any one thought where the bell echoed.
No thoughts remain, no thoughts of tomorrow becoming today the last act of stupidity or the seven letters from hell.
The first I read and kept my opinion, the second I saw đź‘€.
Peeking over the wall, the red spiked horns caught my attention.
I ran away further from the sight I sought escape.
Next I heard rioter’s cries thinking was following me I continued to run swift.
The fourth was a city from which rose smoke, changing direction, engulfing sea birds of prey in skies of growing grey.
Sixth, the finding of misery in a bunch gathered bouquet.
The seventh, a wonder of the crystal ball seen upon wall’s top in ink blotting.
The walls, seemingly soft earth, slowed my foot race and widened the path from a close order to more distant steps away.
The commotion previously heard began to make sense.
From the saints, the devils huddled about in thought I cannot hear clearly what is being said because more caution their words perhaps carry the tags it places, allows others on secure footing.
Their feet are equally muddy and others in standstill seeking to avoid the pitfalls.
Changing the lighting none exist to provide direction except the climbing of sweeter things of nature.
Love birds, grapes of the vine some fallen from branch, others in crying mouths.
Still more hunger provides a dangerous chance.
Even more I can’t see to buttress at the reach of dawn or beyond the wall come a door open, bring sunshine against mud slinging.
No sign “Welcome” or “Enter” because a reality the other may bring accumulation or tear tongue in cheek call to order.
Crime against basic freedom wasn’t clearly understood as I spoke my language, other languages not recorded of course and either not written down criminally.
The other little spoken any manner appears to answer the comment call to follow the first line not a viable will or aim of purpose, neither end but a joker’s wear and tear of baggy bags and paper hat.
Come now, the pitiful lone leader challenging the pit where lions roar who is then king will not relinquish claim and foe rust and fame, passing the cup.
The other cometh, taking form with branch site, cloud changing days fanning word and belief in a darken conspiracy leaning today, tomorrow into their encampment with lesser prizes than can be realized.
Lesser human beings end intact form and ability of sight and sound recognition to memory.
Lay the stone from which all history began and broke apart read like a headstone.
Here was my argument: history lie but in that,
- Period of time first which poisoned our minds
- The next followed the course laid down or left
- Tax still that which I see left challenged remain
- The standard to empty other beliefs in immoral
- Wealth pocket passes range the cast influenced
- The walls portal recently repaired stars and bars
- Course for concern everything else is not enough