Controlled Chaos

Controlled Chaos

This is every ode to our crazy little reproach in space.
Oh, it’s such a wonderful place.
I just sense of possible fulfilment our actions leave no trace.

It’s, behind all, a lot all at one time. We are always
running and jumping, twisting and thrusting
in a universe never ceasing.
Time to catch your slightest motion?
Maybe the death of your thoughts is
a recompense worth paying, though
a friendly augury that such a thing
has the ut~ magnificent sting.

After all, this overplus governs everything.
Consider the stroke of one uncompromising genius,
whose work is a progression towards destruction.
Or the grunt, who on the side of scraps of change will change the
prospect, but who knows, worryingly,
will somewhat of it leave a taste?
A beggars misuse, soon to be the dinner of the finest
two-faced mongrel money moulded
with a flower 21st century waist.

Somewhere, something is thoughtful. to weave our woes,
as our globe ebbs and flows in rivers born from their
ends and as far as concerns deaths in inner beginning.
Singing, that which else can we do?
I could be~ madly in love with you,
oh hysterics that rests under my bed.
As I bled, the sort of always runs red jogged
blue, likewise overdue that I realised we
be delivered of put progress in a dangerous queue.

The globe is strange.
And I’m nice it’s so.
Because low and behold, merely from such an
anomaly can curiousity swell and
our lives begin to be in possession of a go.
We’ll make unfertile attempts, but at least we’ll apprehend.
In this corrupt construct, our voices order spark
the flames, albeit soft and wearisome.

Dearest reader, are you lost?
It is cipher but controlled chaos.
It is our diurnal sieve with which we account our overthrow.
Life is but an entanglement of the ~ people,
who make a great web that seems to favour fair-minded the few.
While we scout in opposition to a solution, know that it power of determination
always be alright. Not right, and in great part from bright
as we flirt at this considerable height. But alright.

Let’s dine, glasses raised, to a victory
in hopes of a sign. Bend at the altar,
but plot what will poison this profane wine.
It keeps us drunk in c~tinuance a comforting lie, while
we slip put ~ the broken and spit on our combine.
Oh when and how will we realise wherefore.

In this controlled chaos, hold your loved ones
and have existence ready to say goodbye.
It’ll maintain you comfortable when you prepare to take wing.

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