KINGDOM

Dare watch?
The fire grows in through your synagogue. Your misery roars with every  flare. Do you sit down and watch it burn down your beliefs to silence. Do you risk the more pain by jumping into the flame to save something barely noticeable.  Do not cry, the lost-attention does not hide the knowledge of the ashes. Do not run, the fear can only grow the burning and request the black hawk of its duty.  The flames surround your precious efforts and close in with disappointment shadows overleaping your hope. You’re cold done, you’re cold done.  The hate barely intensifies the melting. The crying hardly progresses the silence through the hell.  The tears drown the time you had that once could of lived. The memories you created for the the visions become dreams created for your murderers, and you dare watch?

Your attention is gone. You invited the spectators to asses your greatness. Touring your perfect town is all. You picked them out of choices and led their sanity to your basilica of happiness. Happiness is what the travelers saw. Power is what you saw in their minds expression.  Weakness is what they saw in yours. Their eyes told you your standing and you forced them to know theirs… and you rose. Ignorance in the judging rose your name. In judging of the others grew and so crowded became your cathedral. Known, came your words and Watched, came your beliefs.  You were there. Visions easier to wake up from. Life easier to look back on. Strength from the past came your future, meeting visions into clear from their expressions. It’s a clear back path, with an ending at your peak. You were in the clouds, with wings holding your strong. But there was a black hawk, with tears on his broken wings and wanted your blood and the ashes of your full-of temple… Are you watching closely?

The high air pulled your beliefs with you and it mocked your depression so you craved.  You were trapped in lies of constant and you were stuck up in the darkness of the sky, and that’s where he lives. The box of puzzle he carried with his wings. You did not see his disguise as a spectator. The spectators noticed your delusion but broke your trusting. Your beliefs broke your trusting. The asker obeyed the hidden lies of the question, and then they stood in with your beliefs in your mosque of dreams. Your sitting in your throne with visions and do not see the hawk. His hate could shake the tears away from the mournful as well as drown those bodies who have ever been mournful.  He burns the soul, he burns the souls! Your chapel has been cloaked by hate and delivered by hate. A flame that only the leader can watch. Your following spectators have been buried in each others burnt carcusses and you lose your attention as they curse themselves while glancing at their misdirection of expression. Your visions that were unfathomable to be impossible were trapped in mockeries of depression.  Your shrine of truth has been burnt by lies of your blind eyes and your strong beliefs that trapped the spectators.  The emptiness you had was dreamful and in front of you but when you touched it, you tripped inside the depth of lost co-ordination in time. The dreams and imagination filled the emptiness, but  the emptiness froze and became an ice block, and the hate barely intensifies the melting so now you’re cold gone.
…And I know you’re still watching.