Bublyon

the Babylon of bubbles,where plastic shamans blow illusions of loveto a mixed people of iridescent colorssandwiched between a soapy film of confusionMan’s disillusion of building a rainbowed utopiaas they dance and sing in the high places                                                                 hiding behind a green treeForgetting man shot the first arrow at heaven,as the pot of gold, at the end of the rainbow,calls the kettle black accepting everything,without central rule is the babbling freedom of anarchySlaves to their own sins promising liberty                                                                 God is a God of order and not the author of confusion                                         There is only one Way and He does not need the help of manWhat is highly esteemed among men is an abomination to GodMan’s attempts to build a utopia                                                                               will always, become a bubbling dystopiabursting, into endless lulu tearsof a seared consensus,                                                                                              suddenly a rainbow policemen awakes,somewhere off the grid in Kansas,with a headache and an empty bottle of snake oil

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