Chapter Sixty One: Slightly Deaf

Many that live deserve death.

And some that die deserve life.

Can you give it to them?

Then do not be eager to deal

out death in judgment.

For even the very wise

cannot see all ends.

***

It is plain indeed that in spite of

later estrangement Hobbits are 

relatives of us:

far nearer to us than Elves,

or even the Dwarves.

Of old they spoke the languages of Men,

after their own fashion,

and liked and disliked much the same

things as Men did.

But, what exactly our relationship is

can no longer be discovered.

Both are quoted from J.R.R. Tolkien

-o0o-

Some are unfortunate

They are the victims

Of their circumstances

Pitifully, they dwell in shame

Without any other choice

They are unknowingly propelled,

Naked in the world

Undressed by the truth

In the middle of lies

One accepts his fate

By deceit or otherwise

Without any movement

As if by default

They have settled for mediocrity

By giving a chance to the wrongs

And keeping it within the precepts

Of outrageous madness

The idiots have fallen

But there is no sound

Like the lessons of nature

They propagate symptoms

Of poison and death

Death! How addicting it was

To kill every creation

Even dreams are slaughtered

And multiple weapons are used

Like words, their sickness transmits

In essence, a noble advocacy it seems

Quite curious, and nagging

A pathllogical desire to destroy

One chooses to hold power

Nothing else is desired

Yet, survival will never suffice.

And yet, poverty strikes

An ignorant knowledge

Aids in the lie

To kill the dreams

To kill a life

In the scientific process of work

Distance is a must

But one must see

In the sickness of others

How calm one can be?

To remove his soul, to be expelled!

A moment of truth

In an unfortunate gloom

Death becomes evident

And the repulsive force

Through the picture's frame

Nothing survives the ploy

Yet nobody eventually glows

Darkness ensue

It was death staring back

There is no other clue

By the mercy of nature

The law becomes silent

It was a gradual death

A tragic case

Of torture and the many plots!

Singing, shouting, swords of fire

Coming from the mouth of the monster

It cuts the wounded soul

Into million pieces it goes

And in the process of it all

One can only guess

The powers of work

Transcends Einstein's physical laws

For a momentum of force

In a short distance

Brings death

A terrible death

A truthfully, shaneful death!

Indeed, it was cruelty

The thinking agent finally resumes

And by imperius thought

One inflicts the suffering as foretold

I have felt it

I know what it means

Seemingly ordinary

In the crimes of the fellowship

By arguments they take form

Transfiguration

In legal battles, the physical clock evolves

By collision of physical deformity

All things dissolve

And the solute of the mixture

A poison of lies spill

Like the disease of the soul

A pathological mystery

No illness of this kind

Truly deminish

And as one accepts his fate

A death so abrupt, immediate

Yet, beautiful in a sense

Despite the murders of order

It was unkind

For the victims

Helpless

Deceiful

Thieves

Unfairness

A snake's poisonous fluid

Will never compare

To this magnitude of despair.

Death by explosion!

Of the singing words

A sword of murderous decibel

One is striken with force

And the ejecting nature

Of the soul confused

As the evil creatures abound

Surprised by default

Monsters suddenly devolves!

The world is not simply blind

But slightly deaf, too.

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This Chapter is sponsored by Emporio Armani.