As I look to the left and to the right of this revolutionary road,
I feel caught in a game of frogger, where the emperor has no clothes.
I turn and gaze into the future, before the water course turns to black,
And I can see an upside down mirrored imaged, inside a pendulum swinging back.
It’s an alchemy alloyed Atlas, but focused on his rusty iron ten toes,
His pinky, giving three others an honor, each a guillotine necklace bestowed.
Here I stop and ponder the picture; I wonder, how this little piggy grew so strong,
I consider if in its home bound crying, he spoke of inequality to a disorderly throng.
Hence, I trace this plot line trajectory, back to the future, to see where it goes,
And running through a parasitic dark knight court I see a train surrounded by snow;
That smashes into an immigrant Turkish man, who’s bankrupt and house foreclosed,
Who hears the clear and heart piercing sound of his daughter in deep death throws.
Now twixt between these two points, a rising action event still hid from view,
That’s locked within time’s squared circle constraints, who’s color is merely a hue.
But if I were called by the king, and required to reveal this visions scene true color,
I would say that money is the root of all evil and place mammon above all others.
The course of history is both human divine, with being on the wrong side coming due,
However, it might be wise to learn from Maximilien and the great deception he fell into.
COMING FORWARD 