Oh, The Manipulation.

Oh, The Manipulation
and, oh, the mechanical deception.
Technical Mountains
they would have you trust
of the brain.

Separating the said
from the mind and
Potential Soul.

Instill in you they will, do, and have,
instill it where one will never notice,
a deliberately decided, alterior agenda.

From such as the conceptual shell of propinquity, festering
with, along and together, conjoining,
additive subtle ruse-ridden charades,
Ultimate instincts the misguided have yet to, or maybe cannot, bypass 
are exactly exploited.

Innocent Charisma overshadowed
by Intricate Calculation
and so very few can recognize
the difference.

So the vast majority
becomes so very maneuvered
and my vehemence masked
erupts in writing, vividly marked,
and these ruling vermin men
continue their vexed masquerades.

They never know themselves
and only believe
their desires.

But with them they take
the unwise and witless
and strip then transform,
in their own view, making,
shaping them to fit
their Grand Skew.

Cluelessly kept, then,
are so many,
some even thinking
themselves happy.

To break this chain,
to become the content,
to banish these controllers,
we must bar them, completely.

In order to do so all you need
are the slightest truths revealed;

The artificial trust only themselves and their creations
but will be among others of their obvious archetype overlooked.
That being the rare which you inherently desire
without knowing why. 

And, when in the light of one completely whole and undeniably true,
will first attempt to pull them under.
And when they inevitably fail, erased that person will exist
in the functional-for-self memory 
they have twisted into circuited data, virtually virtual... virtually...
in their ever forever unpresence of virtue.

Recrudesce must recrudescence, now,
unless you enjoy being unaware
of your Marionette Status.