Are you feeling the swing and sway,
the cosmic crack’s order of the day?
Dogma’s glow and everfescient humming
handing tea as if it were slumming.

Yeah, oh yeah, cries the bird of fire
you can increasing tell it’s just a liar.
Full of fantasy and magical thinking
promoting terror and all that is stinking.

People are dangling hung by a vine
the raw, cruel nature of under care’s sign.
Open your eyes, check out that paint
try to be strong, it’s not for the faint.

Stories, like matches, flickering around
lighting life on fire, tearing life flourishing down.
Fear, megalomania, separations dream
create a frightening and torrid stream
of shadows and boogeymen, monsters, and strife
pointing to control, war, and taking of life.

No, indeed, a new stories brewing,
but it will only be by you honestly choosing.
Liminal spaces are fears from times old
it’s time to hand those monsters flowers - it’s time to behold.