Vault Dweller I:
In this vault we're sealed, a final haven,
As the world above crumbles, war-raven.
Humanity's future, a word to define:
Management, the key to our design.
Radicalism spreads, a Hollywood clap,
Apocalypse sold, inescapable trap.
You, a mere product, control stripped away,
Society's child, born to obey.

Vault Dweller II:
So choice is illusion, a comforting lie?
No voice for the people, no freedom to try?
Participating means we must accept
Our role as the cogs, forever inept?

Vault Dweller I:
You grasp the truth, though it brings no joy,
Greater good demands we be its envoy.
Order preserved through sacrifice great,
Individual wills must abdicate.

Vault Dweller II:
How does this differ from a mob's decree?
Surely one mind holds more clarity.
The group may think, but it lacks the nuance
Of a single soul, free from influence.

Vault Dweller I:
In an imperfect world, what justice remains?
Flawed beings at the helm, with fallible brains.
Their memories, mere shadows of what was real,
Can they fairly judge, or true balance feel?
Mind is imperfect, recollection weak,
Reality warped by the truths we seek.

Take off that online persona's guise
With filtered pics.
O no, my friend, it's just a lie
To gain some fleeting "likes" and clicks,
But truth's not nigh.

In public, kindness you may show,
A friendly face.
But in your heart, does hatred grow?
The news peddles it at a pace
That's sure to slow.

You can't be your best self with hate
Inside your heart.
Each day, strive to improve your fate,
From yesterday, make a fresh start,
And choose what's great.

Perhaps the Stoics had it right,
That history
Should not hinder joy or delight.
Embrace the present, and you'll see
A path that's bright.

In gilded chambers, safe from strife,
The wealthy few, secure their life,
With luxuries to ease their fear,
While masses face the end so near.

Apocalyptic fear formed consumerism.
Kings under a moutain of selfisish elitism.
A dragon’s hoard buys a chance,
To live, daydreaming of their time in France.

Art, a mirror of our souls, reflects the essence of our being,
A canvas for expression, where emotions find their freeing.
It bridges gaps between cultures, a universal tongue,
Inspiring, enriching lives, a gift to old and young.

Surreal Portal

In a ruined city, a portal glows with blue light
Against the fiery sky, a monument to cosmic fright
The landscape shattered, rubble strewn across the ground
An apocalyptic scene, dark forces gather all around

In the realm of thought, where concepts intertwine,
Chaos and order dance, a rhythm divine.
Humanity's quest, to make sense of the world,
Unraveling mysteries, as knowledge unfurled.

Our minds, they seek patterns in the vast unknown,
To build understanding, to call something our own.
For without order, our thoughts would be lost,
In a sea of confusion, where reason is tossed.

But what of chaos, that elusive force?
Is it truly disorder, or just a different course?
Perhaps it's a challenge, to our limited view,
A call to explore, to learn something new.

Like magic of old, that once seemed so strange,
Chaos may be a frontier, waiting for change.
As we push the boundaries of what we can grasp,
The unknown becomes known, in our mental clasp.

For life itself, so complex and grand,
Emerges from chaos, guided by order's hand.
The painting, a testament to human creation,
Chaos on canvas, born from ordered contemplation.

It's not a battle, between two opposing sides,
But a dance of discovery, where knowledge resides.
Laws and understanding, our tools to explore,
While the undefined and unknowable, we can't ignore.

In the end, it's a journey, a quest for the wise,
To bring light to the darkness, to open our eyes.
For in the interplay of chaos and order's might,
Lies the beauty of the universe, in endless flight.

In the depths of exhaustion, a spark still burns bright,
A storyteller's passion, an unyielding light.
Through the trials of creation, they persevere,
Crafting worlds and characters, so vivid and clear.

With each word written, a piece of their soul,
Poured onto pages, a story to unfold.
The mind, a labyrinth of imagination,
A wellspring of tales, defying limitation.

Consistency, the key to unlock their art,
Dedication, the force that sets them apart.
Day after day, they toil and they strive,
Breathing life into stories, keeping dreams alive.

Though the journey is taxing, the path sometimes bleak,
They find strength in the words that they speak.
For in their stories, a power resides,
To inspire, to challenge, to open minds wide.

Treasured are the storytellers, the weavers of dreams,
Their works, a respite from life's endless schemes.
Through their craft, they offer a chance to escape,
To explore new horizons, to find solace and shape.

So let us honor the writers, the creators of lore,
May their pens never falter, their minds never wane.
For in their tireless efforts, in the gifts they store,
Words that will remain and ignite in our brains.

Since ancient times, the tax collector's due
A portion of the fruits of labor claimed
From Pharaoh's wheat to Caesar's revenue
The powers that be have always tax ordained

In 1913 the Income Tax Act was born
A progressive rate, the more you earn, the more you pay
Yet loopholes let the crafty duck becoming the norm
While common folk get no such getaway

The system seems too big to fight alone
We dutifully file each April's eve
But unfairness makes the people groan
Will there be no reprieve 

The Panama Papers show how some connive
To stash their cash in shell company's name
Tax havens help the richest few to thrive
A two-tier system - privilege without shame

For all the rest, there's no choice but to bear
The burden of a tax they cannot dodge
A bitter pill - injustice hard to square
The government can’t seek self-sabotage

Yet schools and roads and much that we hold dear
Depend on steady flow to the treasury
Fair tax, the framework shall not delay another year
We need a system serving you and me

In the depths of ancient forests, where shadows dance and mysteries reside,
Their spirits intertwined with the essence of the wild, a bond so pure and true,
In harmony with the whispers of the wind and the melodies of the tide,
Protectors of the fauna and flora, they keep the balance anew.
They shield the mountains, the valleys, the rivers that run through.
Where secrets of the wild unfold, we shall happily pay their fares
They invite us to embrace the uncharted, to find solace in nature's lairs,

In their enchanted domain, we uncover the key to living,
To mend the bonds we've neglected, to open our hearts and let nature pour.
Perhaps we have missed the simple joys that come from giving
To rediscover our connection to nature's core, the wisdom of folklore.
And to cherish the timeless tales, uncovering the knowledge that they store
Trolls, the guardians of nature, stand tall with an unwavering stride. 
May we find our way back to the earth alongside our own nature’s guide.

Amidst the cosmic dance, an eclipse takes stage,
Planets form from dust and gas, a stellar birthright,
A celestial event, written on history's page.
Bound by gravity's embrace, a cosmic might.
Circling stars in orbits grand and bright.
A rare alignment, Earth, Moon, and Sun converge,
Shadows cast, a celestial merge.

Humanity, a mere speck on the cosmic scale,
Yet we dream of things much larger than our own,
Contemplating existence, so fragile and frail.
Curiosity drives us to explore the unknown,
Seeking truths that the universe has shown.
The burden of celestial bodies in a sea of emptiness,
Amidst the void, amongst the forgiven, a kindness.

We are but a single spark in the vast expanse of time
Our eyes, full of boundless wonder, gaze into the unknown
A solitary drop, lost within the cosmic dark sublime
Our spirits, once united, now torn asunder and alone

Amidst the sea of knowledge, we struggle to find our way
Yet as we navigate this vast and complex array
The limits of human cognition, a boundary we should cross?
Our hubris drives us forward, no matter what the cost

What is the measure of perfection, a flawless design?
Can imperfect beings create, in their own image, divine?
If tools of creation are bound to the maker's mind
Inherent imperfections, in the outcome, we'll find

In this final act of creation, we stand on the brink
Is it the death of creativity, or a new dawn we think?
Our greatest tool, born from the depths of our collective mind
A testament to our ingenuity, or a farewell resigned?

In the heart of a valley, a monolith stands tall, A narrow, towering rock, defying nature’s call. Surrounded by walls that seem to touch the sky, The massive rock reaches up, as if to fly.

Rays of light dance upon the grassy floor, Casting shadows that stretch and grow evermore. The rocks, like giants, loom in the distance, Their presence commanding, with an air of insistence.

The trees, oh the trees, they too reach great heights, Competing with the rock for the valley’s delights. Their branches sway gently in the whispering breeze, As if sharing secrets amongst the leaves.

The scene is a wonder, a sight to behold, A symphony of nature, a story untold. The rock, the walls, the grass, and the trees, All playing their part in this grand masterpiece.

In this valley of marvels, time seems to stand still, As the massive rock watches over, silent and still. A testament to the power of nature’s might, Forever standing tall, in the valley’s soft light.

In realms of thought, two languages reign:
The poet's verse, the mathematician's claim.
Words, alive with context and hue,
Numbers, abstract, precise and true.

A word, a vessel for meaning's fleet,
Connotations shift with each heartbeat.
"Love" and "hate," such simple signs,
Yet stir the soul with their designs.

But numbers, symbols of logic's art,
Immutable, play a different part.
A "2" is "two," in every land,
Its meaning fixed, like grains of sand.

We imbue our symbols with such power,
Words can make us laugh or dour.
Numbers, too, hold sway over our lives,
In ledgers, formulas, and fiscal dives.

Yet in the end, it's the mind that assigns
The weight and worth of these written lines.
Words and numbers, mere symbols on a page,
Until we grant them meaning's stage.

So let us ponder, in this mortal dance,
The import we give to these symbols of chance.
For in the realm of meaning's sway,
It is we who wield the final say.

The week's just started, much to do,
Meetings, deadlines and tasks accrue.

Wednesday brings a glimmer of hope,
Halfway through, we start to cope.

Thursday's better, Friday's near,
The weekend's close, we persevere.

Sweet Saturday, our greatest treasure
Let loose, unwind, our passions pleasure

Sunday funday feeding our soul
A lazy morning into an afternoon stroll

As for Tuesday the wretched beast,
We'll grin and bear you, to say the least.

When an embrace of peace,
All our troubles may cease
Into the stillness of the night
All our thoughts take flight

Under a deep calm, a healing soothing balm
Rest our sanctuary for the soul, making us whole
In the darkess of our minds, where unspoken truths unwind
The inevitable surrender, a gentle fall, into sleep’s inviting, silent call.