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Vacuity of the powers that be
Lagrangian points, L1-L5
Fear of a hive, people are strange
But some are stranger
Hoje ontem, na próxima semana
Sim, absolutamente, se dana,
Se deita na cama do gato sem o devido trato.
People are strange
Any door has know that for long
And Yakuza agree about the Tong.
World is changing, say, stopped world time
Is an hostile environment, you cannot move,
The air molecules are still and so are yours
So it is an unsolved idea, not satisfying
If you have the concept, and thought is power
As when you imagine at dawn a love at sunset
And get a dinner, small talk, confidence, eminent danger,
When you wake up tied to a bed you don’t recognize,
Have to get out and pay the bill with self despise.
That is called the arrow of time, a known concept.
UAE are great, and that small emirate that had no oil
Dubai, monstrous, delightful day to day nightmare
The kind of you cannot avoid supercars at DPD
But the world is changing, so eventually time will stop
Not to turn things worse than the riches that pop,
Creating more billionaires every day, no holidays, 24-7
Not caring to inquire of ascension to any heaven,
Cause with the proper education, genetics, manipulation
Any simple soul can ascend to the pride of a Nation.
Work and effort, sacrifice and resilience we have a hero.
You must have noticed by now that I feel sick
And need a short life and a head kick,
For, being poor, you are not real,
The world turns, And as faster I spin
Inversely proportional angular momentum,
Lassitude, ineptitude, inertial, lost desideratum.
Every day only some beauty,
The innocence of fibonacci petals
The lack of rare earth metals
Only this monstrous inner me
The music and all these dances,
Supports the vacuity of the powers that be.
Not the rise of Endymion, Not Annabelle lee,
Not those tears and fears,
Only a mystery pushing everyday
To the last, blissful,
Last, also the least, above earth
Stay.
The urge to join the departed
And yet crawling in a map uncharted.
What is worthy, all the sunny side of the street
If I, obsolete, miss you so much, stranger you, concrete,
Not one more empty shell that, in time, offends my smell?
If you knew how would I care,
And yet persist, disrespect, offend to offend
And finally wish you to be submissive, bend,
Offending me so much i cannot pretend,
And find the decision to, once more, dare.
It is an old say, and true, that are monsters to live
Hurting themselves, strong, and not the weak as prey.
Even when they both desire and destiny says you may.
