Battling senses and illusion of reality with perception

Battles are fought to win, but who says? battles are just obsolete if it's not clashing against your internal void…

I would like to thank Ray Day for indulging me in this prompt by Jason Edmunds which is an interesting take on our daily battles. What entails a battle? The wars that we fight, the kingdoms we cease, the relationships we persist on, or rapidly rising the echo chambers of hierarchy. Yes, all of those, but to unveil the farcical face of material culture, of tangible aspiration and concrete hopes. For they are tools to duplicate the dashes of realism that persist in the social fold… Not for reigning in countries far and beyond, fighting for the devious lust we cannot manage to contain, or thinking of us as meteorites and supernovas far mystical and enticing for folks to catch on to. There is a deeper message, hence, here goes my poetry stanzas…

Like a butterfly, I fly and rise hoping that the happiness opened its fangs like a snake,

It looked pure and demure, yet enchanting, forever glazing in the summer heat.

For the looks looked breathtaking and nothing else, calming the serene serendipity of the snake, ignoring the mighty haze of light

The want of a bitter rival as the fangs represent, blemished with tortured ribs of a rabbit,

I see and feel my skin and bones merging, as I am dead, concocted and mixed with digestive juices

Like a Trapezium that looks like a world but it's not, it's a dark dungeon of everlasting sorrow and suffering, for the systems cannot decide What to do with you?

Where is your future?

What job will you get? Says the protruding fang of the snake,

As if the world is equal with jobs, non farcical with mobs, able to solve sorrow and pain, with nothing to gain.

What education will you get? The snake hisses on the commentary making slide turn on its right fang, giving a gentle debauchery smile,

Little and little he laughed thinking if all levelers were commoners then why do we have hierarchies? Of to prepare for the college and school you want, the riches ride the cosmos unearthing gold and shedding it at your feet.

Footsteps crawl and produce a sound, here is a person that came, devoid of nothing yet something, rising in aromatic silting, but still appropriating

The snake in light, from the shadows of the evening, stopped hissing and swallowing the rabbit.

It has partaken many and rendered obsolete, inequality is a constant, equality is a penchant, and we all are trapped in sorrows and borrowings, little and little devolving and evolving ourselves.

The layers are thick and broken, the tryst is hard and heavy, and the cocoon is still tight to be penetrated; as we all are trapped in shells.

If one has to feel the power of realism that is an infinite and unending time continuum.

Whisper your sounds in silence, the world runs, and the cosmos flies, multiverses dry and cry with happiness,

And your bliss becomes my bliss to her bliss to their bliss to create an unending chain of different dimensions of bliss and we fly like cold air.

Not to let you catch a cold, but to give you the serendipitous feeling of calm and soothing warmth.

Continuing the tradition, I would like the following Medium Writers to engage as per their choice if they want to with the prompt:

William J Spirdione, Alexander Semenyuk, Shyamashree Acharya, Aurelia Bliss, Mon Esprit, Katy Ramm, Subhi Najar, Mary Louisa Cappelli, MFA, JD, PhD, David Rudder, Mark Armstrong, Dr Ruth Miller-Anderson, Owen W., Michelle Renee Kidwell, Mustapha El Hajj, Laurel B. Miller, augmented man

Have a good day positive people!

Thanks a lot for taking some precious time out of your schedule to read my work. If you like it, you can read some of the other poems I have linked below. I hope you have a great day! Thanks for stopping by!!!

Deva and Devi: Two strands of the same thread

I Start Scribbling and You Came Back Shoving Me into the Black Hole

Roses and Thorns: A bewildering spring caught between hot and cold