Control is another word,
For being trapped in a stronghold,
It's a misrepresented truth,
Towards the populous of what's told.
It's an addiction based lie,
Gripped in the clutches of console.
It's an egotistical power trip,
For who tightly conceals it's blindfold.
It's an inverted reality,
Fueled by the heat of it's cold.
It's a disillusioned reflection,
Mirroring vast decay in this world.
Truth is of highest power,
Whispering since times of old.
It doesn't come from idols,
Made of silver nor of gold.
All regard surpassing fire,
Revelations will unfold.
An understanding provision,
Of generational histories taken toll.
Situations and circumstance,
Seemingly remain so bold.
Present them all to God,
The only one who's in control.
©trazz79
T