Chapter Forty: Moral Lessons of Darkness

 The books that the world calls immoral

are the books that show the

world its own shame.

Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

The discontent brews

The darkness ensues

Within the perils of blindness

A lesson emerges

Not quite, but morally obliging

Though it kills painfully

The motivation of dreams

As the poison is taken

The effects are sown

Into the purity of whiteness

The death is eaten

Obviously, naturally

Where there are whippings throughout

The slavery reunites

No slaves shall ever live

Without the necessity of the killings

Thoughtfully in use

Very silly

And for the abovementioned cases

Clarity, in desired superiority

The names of the moral agents

An accounting of defense

Banking on the upper river

To drown in the valley of thoughts

Sinister, of pure evil

And the useless sufferings

The rhetorics of dismissal

Never to be trusted again

By a personnel of enforcers

The impostor of dreams

To kill the bird of songs

The singing soul, it gathers

The delight of good motives, yet

Listening to the sounded desperation

To keep the writings on the wall

Nothing else shall prosper

The slave now reluctantly follows

Is it for the common welfare?

To listen to hypocrites lie?

To profit from slander

Will they not die?

As the margins gained from murder

Of thoughts, of valid principles

But if not

The whip of greed strikes

Indefinitely

Seriously

An offense disgustingly flee

Tolerated

Propagated

An ode to the sadness

And the prejudice

That defines certain consequences

Morality never existed

In the minds of others

The legend of a mere concept

But nothing to be beholden

For the sake of the good

There is none to be expected

From lies to the truth

The island at the center

A slanderous deed

Indeed, to ridicule

A poor soul wanting

To gain freedom, to mobilize

Sitting in a chair paralyzed

From the painful fall

A handicap he became, indeed

To shoot the mighty dream

Bigger, and sincerely true

A hypocritical lie

Legally monetized

To strike at the back

Treacherously done!

The crimes of rhetoric

Slaves must die, to attack

Hypocrites in the most oozing

Of a life well-vandalized

Moral lessons

A love

But not quite

The truth

Not shown

The lesson

It must be

From the heart

It can be felt

Still

Elements

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