Tomorrow We Dance To Freedom






Breaking Free From Scaly Winged Master

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Keep it shut tight no light should be allowed to enter the sordid creation. Nowadays with the complacent docile faces being replaced by those wearing a perpetual scowl light seems to be piercing from every direction. It isn't safe emerging from my business lair snug with all its pilfered booty to expose myself to so many comprehending eyes each adding its own little beam of light to an accumulating collection of empathy and compassion.

Mine was a world of stern cold calculation that had small regard for anything that did not benefit me. It was all held together with deception, lies, and deceit by the glue of corruption. Nothing mattered, for the world that we derived off the backs of the less fortunate operated under a shiny darkness that burnt its propaganda imprint into every corner of society - nothing was beyond our reach.

Academic freedom lived in a musty odor filled room that was never aired out with freshly inspired dreams and ideas. Every breath became labored under our system for very little was permitted inside and if it crawled in it was immediately vaporized. Better to let the resident vermin educate the pliable future scum in the ways of inequity than allow any subversive light beam the opportunity to shine inside. Keep it shut tight - by all means disallow dissention.

Be still while the irreverent few maintain their rightful positions dancing in an unrestrained greed induced trembling pleasure building to an orgasmic release of fluid wealth erupting forth from every swollen orifice of the mighty. Never mind that the rest of society is left to wither away alone in a soiled greasy corner kicked into submission by boots covered with the same orgasmic fluid that continually bursts forth in a spray that sickens the ever increasing global poor - their only right is to die in wretched poverty. Keep those light beams away from the dark corners where the wicked practitioners of an evil faith exercise a sweaty pagan hatred of everything but their worship of money.

Expendable, is the roaring voice that echoes through the bleak stale places erected as temples to their winged master. When the carefree bird glides upon the blue heavens alight with joy a shadow suddenly covers the ground below - the world is transformed into a gasping ignorant darkness. All that was proud about our future has now been replaced with the clattering of pennies dropped into those corners of despair that are proliferating like pox sores covering the once clear skin of lost happiness. But even in utter hopelessness our inner light of fairness cannot be extinguished by the most contemptible creed of lusty greed - every now and then another beam breaks free.

With their world of greed collapsing under its own putrid weight voices are finally clearing the boundaries of stifled consciousness - many encrusted eyes are opening slowly looking up past the darkness. Love is gradually covering the dispossessed with a clean new beginning that will eventually allow every citizen from all the distant corners to extend their hands in friendship. The broken have grasped their inner strength and have begun hurling it at the wicked deceitful followers of the scaly winged master. We've come to see the real forms before us in their true emptiness - this includes their religion of incalculable free unrestrained suffering imposed upon the many.