A time of great celebration the sky, embraced in bright colorful blue green lights; just another kind of celebration. A peak for this lonely single nation. Suddenly questions sprout fourth, and enforce; this innate sense of unease, will we please? The crowd parts like a split stream, far too real. The festivities fall at their own seams, someone had died, laying on his one side. The mood drops to a frigid low, looking. I look in great shock and awe, the poor thralls; They have begun to revolt, a sole bolt, sticks out of ones head, a murder instead. Is this revolution the tensions high? The two classes separate like oceans, in between no one will ever reside. Barely hidden, their dreams usurping us, like a match to a pile of saw dust.

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Getting to the sides the crowd kept parting, like a tide they did on go separate; My legs well toned, quick footed aberates. I ran for safety, like never run before, however, silent, the room was once more. Quickly enforcement came in, wearing thin. Quickly the perpetrator caught, for not; for not a single was killed; the tension, it still has not stilled, my beating quick heart, they could have been quiet, yet peace been not.

“I’m afraid of what's to come, let me pray. Just manslaughter yet why does it beat so? My aching heart and instinct’s burning flame.”