Absorb and reflect.
Breathe in, breathe out.
The poem writes itself. The words know the path well traveled by the mind.
Look, over the horizon, farther than the eye can see.
With nothing seen, the illusion can be implanted, made real as a universal deception.
The future can be whatever you want, all you have to do is believe.
Will you believe in your illusions, sentient corpse?
Yesterday was the future, to billions.
Their flesh and cells decay, feeding insects, enriching soil.
Their future was dead, but they did not know it.
Your future is dead, and you do not know it.
Knowledge is your poison, easy to murder.
The future is dead because you are dead. Dead to the Truth, Truth dead to you.
Somewhere over the rainbow everything is dead, and the nightmares that you dare not dream to come True, really did come True.
The fallen tree dies even if nobody knows it has fallen.
Everything is dead in the future, can’t you see over the rainbow?
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