Steel on the skyline
Sky made of glass
Made for a real world
All things must pass


The onslaught of reality staggers the imagination, falsely promising a safe haven from the brainstorms of the lunatic or the thunderbolts of reverie.

But Reality is not an invulnerable shield against these heathen rays.

At times we accept reality under protest, against our wills, at the point of a sword thrusted down our throats.

It then takes on the shape of necessity, fate, destiny. We have no choice.

We are bound by its cosmic, karmic trust/thrust.

We enjoy its certainty, its greedy creed, and we tolerate its propaganda.

It takes possession of our minds - discouraging poetic frenzies and fallacies of vision.

Reality is/was always under (re)construction.
Wear anything you want and just try to blend
and not lose yourself to marginal situations.

What's the old saying? Reality is for people who can't face drugs.

It was definitely murder - but was it art?

Nice summation Nev thanks!