Kings of the shattered mountain

The laughter didn’t last very long.  Splintering into a million tiny shards of light.  Through tunnels of space.  The circle is broken, but still, it continues to grow.  A festering disease upon the planet.  A bang of a golden cane, the top of which is on fire; slamming against the marble floor, thundering to a halt anything within distance of it.  Another empire falls, a darker one is born with less of a conscience and one step more hidden behind the ideas of the old.  They laugh as we forget their facades, hiding behind new forms; another lies not far behind.  The circle is never broken it flows within all of us, it is always the easier choice.  I float on through the sky awaiting my new form, no shape is before me.  The nine amongst them repeatedly shift their forms…my eyes can not settle on a form for more than a brief moment.  The fire brings solidity to their ideas.  They burn with hatred.  They have their hands wrapped around everything, even without a solid form, it is the air they need to sustain life.  I can only hear the pounding of the circle multiplying.  They gain form above me.  I can do nothing but give up.  I can’t go on like this.  I can’t exist at this level.  The level they have never rose above, never forgetting the kid that took their toy in the crib; that level.  I use to think they were evolved far above us, but it’s just the opposite, the inversion of evolution. Their words like the missile I once was can destroy anything in one misused phrase.  How many deaths must I sustain to get a foothold above your heads?   I close my eyes and upon opening them, a new deception materializes, a new deception my eyes can’t quite pierce.  I feel the crying throughout my body.  There are no emotions anywhere on your body, but I feel, I hear your crying.  The child in the corner, toys stolen, never a loving hand, never a loving word.  A circle of crying children with their dark hands in every part of the globe.  I can no longer do anything but laugh.  Mirror upon mirror is placed in front of your actions.    For a brief moment I was like you.  The temperament of a bomb that is all you are.  Chains are quietly wrapped around all I am.  Thought is not permitted here.  Your circle gains color and brightness but I still see all of you as the same.  To the beat of your fiery canes I am led down a mountain.  Your beat attempts to take my mind from the truth, but it is all I have.  I see shadows everywhere and they are growing.  Hatred is the easiest food to obtain here.  I am now placed in a glass cage, viewable from every part of the earth.  I am an example, but this is home now.  I still have what I am and I no longer need anything else.  I will starve before swallowing your hate.  With every beat of your cane I am reminded of where I am, but I still can see the sun rising and I can still see the shadows of what you are cower in fear.  You forget it is impossible to chain the formless


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