Truth Sells

The trumpets sound. The rancorous villains have smuggled away all of the dandy confections of moral society. And now night blooms while the fires envelope the decay. The apportionment of apples shall provide strength to the starving masses. A feather drops into a well. There is hardly time for menageries and stolen wishes.
The sun's freedom shines upon all and the whisper of the morning becomes like a snowflake in air in the crystal fornication of light. How shall we succeed, how shall we begin? Like two poles of light burning at the end. Death walks beneath all shadows. There is comfort in the rain, there is no comfort in the blank skies above us. Science is but a butterfly carried by the wind.
Such and such... ah sweet odes of now and again! From here to there I give you flight and take away tomorrow for you will only dream, and man, like sin, will fade away, for I give you vengeance and tragedy, which are the makings of history. All that I imply and all that I implore is not so much as a wink on a night of pleurisy. You will love me, we shall love one another, and these hands will touch each others and become the blind twigs of forest life. Watch as I attract the birds. The full moon in all its infamy dangles in. The curtain calls. The stage is set. And we are utterly fooled.
Everyone is encrusted by their own wisdoms. Who tells, the heart tells, the pig sells. For a pittance we can be sailors on the long waves of nowhere and to nowhere we shall come and be known as saints. The clouds will even part for our pardon. Look who's talking: a fish with a man's head. It's a man with a fish's organs needing to swim in the fountain of youth. Have they received his coin? The butts of minnows stand in awe. But it's raining school children and the factories must close. Ah, the factories and their flowers and their fragrances. Shall we shower alone or shall we shower in the rain? Is it considered proper and will they alone decide our freedom? Gather in a perfect line and march.