Crashing on the moon he cried ‘NO!!!!’
“I ain’t no play toy, launch me back!”
Removing the mask, he wasn’t an ape. A human after all. Tears didn’t roll. Rather a thick stench of rage. Poisoning the air surrounding.
“Can’t joy last a feeble more?”
He was marked unfit. Unearthed from the cusp of motley he play fought up on.
Adversity a commoner, a friend – a shadow.
Shouldn’t love be somewhere in the vicinity?
Clouds of hatred. Miscommunique and judgment blinded him.
The mighty warrior is a kid. Natures ploy was to test him.
Be a wrought iron, or wither like a dandelion. Breaking the fatey words and fighting mediocrity, he liked to destroy rules. All the clues left behind, were mere & mystic – hard to decode.
To dethrone his illusion, curs murred incessantly. Turning a blind eye or ear isn’t a tall. But, the call was on; “are you up” or “down like a cowardly lion?”
Where did the ego raise up?
With whom are the rage and fights to be resolved?
Abled zombies bent by desire?
Chilled hunters with pretty talks and slyed eyes and slight of hands!
The mystic robot hands wouldn’t batter. Falter in any manner to rest. Not a second of nonsensical thought could be taught to the infected inhumane & apey monstrous megalomaniac.
Losing the baggage, wearing opinions, cast away. An ostrich tale was the life of the tool. Buried with analogy, and not a thing original he was to be down in dumps. Maddening things wrangling in the corners of the mind. Horns glaring creature tapped on his shoulder, “be with me”.
Would he settle for the dark eyed bidder?
Or Fall all back?
“Chide away you damn Chester, picked the right moment to die you buster!”