The world is blessed with comeliness,
And the meery please of the sky.
None can even reach that beauty,
So huge, so distant, so high.
But have you ever looked up to see,
That the sky is infinity.
The biggest beautiful lie we praise,
The worlds ingenuinity is the chase.
We tend to look at it when upset,
Happy, out the hope, full of sigh.
Our emotions find comfort and home,
In the falsehood of the sky.
The sky is sundry each,
At the sun and the colouds sake,
It's not what it seems to be,
It's not real, it's fake.
Just like the sky, as the huge lie it is,
The clouds are also untrue,
Non-existently floating around,
Fooling us by their hue.
Aim for the sky they say,
But the sky doesn't exist.
Don't let aims to be unreal,
Like the sky, clouds and the mist.
We all live in the pages,
Of the fiction book he writes.
So beautifully fake, the world he has made,
A lie so enormous and bright.
The entire world is fiction,
And we are all the fools.
Trying to be real when its,
Virtually that rules.
The blue sky we see,
Is nothingness which stops never.
It's just a majestic fiction,
That goes on forever.