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The grey clouds are slowly moving away and it feels like something good is coming my way, the financial jamboree is skipping up and down the street and the banks are messing with my heartbeat. The grey clouds are turning blue and the activists have a message for me and you; the train is speeding down the track, and I am excited to wear a new frock. The boat is docked on the shore and the universe is asking for more, they sat on the roof from six until noon, waiting for the answer that feels improper; four of them sits on the roof dressed in yellow and green helmet and reminiscing in a red bracket They seem to know what it was all about so they sat silently shouting internally from the back of their throat. Two women and two men draped in black cloth from the top of the roof reflecting the days of their youth; the message was clear that destiny was drawing near, signaling to everyone to be prepared. Silent protest from the heart told a story from the depth of their heart, there were no words to explain but their presence on the roof was met with disdained. They were on the roof of a powerful leader absorbing power for six long hours, they were making a point that some people were out of line but they too have crossed a significant line. I wasn’t sure what to make of it but someone was about to receive an eternal gift. Nobody says anything to them but the cops were in the bushes waiting on them, it is the activitist heart that led them to pull off this stunt from the start; not one protester was walking about on the street because the message on the roof was so deep, they knew that they have crossed the line, and no one wanted to be wrong this time. Four bodies sitting on the roof looking out at me and you; it was symbolic of something that is prolific, strangers lurking in the night looking beyond the day light; some people will disappear in the dark and another have to make a new start, the time is tuff and oil drilling is going to be rough, the ladder is coming down and there is no more crown left on the ground. The cloud is slowly moving and looks can be quite deceiving, they have made it to the mountain top but no fossils fuel believers are around the back; they have come out in broad daylight to end the painful fight America is on their side but there is no miracle in the clouds that will get Mr. Him out of the slide, and as the men descend on the ground, the cops were there to have them bound; they were handcuff and taken away waiting for some luck to come their way. And so the story has been told of four people on the roof that stood bold but in the end they stood strong but destiny marched them on the guilty stand and there was no way that they could denied what they did was overtly wrong but their bonds men came and bailed them out and at last I could breathe fresh air and shout. And so, the stage was set for the much-anticipated trial to begin. Guilty or not guilty He has committed a terrible sin and the perils of nature has done him in!
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