Poem -

The Final Act

The Final Act

People of the world

A projectionast sits in power
Constructing intergalactic machines
To purge the human fields

For his experimental performance
He chose flint to exercise his military might and inflicted his poison while the world turned a blind eye

Soon enough, Holograms will light up the night sky, a show of strength against an extrinsic illusion

And understand this, it is an illusion, but unfortunately, humans need social stability, without this, we will surely kill ourselves.

As for his final act, I am blind.
But the curtains are opening and we will be the audience and the actors
To this fantastic fatal show.

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