UtopiaA Poem by Dream WeaverFearless and assiduous, in your Utopian quest, in no way dithering it cannot be suppressed. Trials and tribulations so heavily weigh, your mind being sculpted into residual clay…
Does such a place exist at all; cleverly concealed we cower and crawl. Falling victim to sumptuous pleasure, there’s no pot of gold no buried treasure.
A mythological tale of notoriety, a frivolous existence of a moribund society. Still many come to embrace and believe corrupted morals as they taunt and deceive.
Hidden out there amongst lush green valleys and tepid blue skies, this Terra fir-ma of fertility, is the devil in disguise. Some roads less traveled the burden extreme, the hunger pangs for a new life a diluted regime.
Is this world what it appears to be? Look around you it’s a voluntary travesty. Wars and hunger it makes no sense, homeless rapacity and pestilence. Is this what we have truly become? Primordial ooze reduced to pond scum? © 2013 Dream WeaverReviews
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4 Reviews Added on January 1, 2013 Last Updated on January 1, 2013 Author
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