Missing

The only thing missing to be found,
From a reality that is openly around.
Is...
The truth of it.
And its non-fictioned existence.

Delusion, denial, lies to deceive purposely,
Are man-made creations.
Sold to sell in an abundance of varieties.
Until the duping becomes addicting.
And too obvious to ignore.

Then...
As if a new beginning has begun,
More people seem stunned...
To find themselves shocked and amazed,
That what they have worshipped to obey...
Blindly followed and continue to create,
Is a mess.
This...
No one hears confessed.
To emphasize the shallowness,
And absent of substance...
Accomplished successfully to achieve.
Just to feast upon a selfishness.

Leaving them left to be the victims,
Of their own actions.
However...
Claiming to blame their ignorance,
Conveniently on someone else...
Has been a useful tool to expose,
Who the real fools have been.
Allowed to make disastrous decisions!

Yet...
Who really knows?
Whose balls used are genuinely crystal?
Maybe this experiment to experience,
Will eventually prove this road taken...
Has a future that reveals,
Enlightenment and progress made after all.
Leaving so many grieving in darkness.
Unconscious and unaware that their fighting,
And ongoing conflicts amongst themselves...
Is a reflection of humanity at its best.

Who really knows?
The truth missing and hidden,
Is disguised to secretly hide...
Balls genuinely from birth crystallized.
With power undenied.
And has been preparing to await,
For that right time to expose...
A version of undisclosed peace.
No one can refuse,
The way it comes to be received!

That which has been said to be missing,
Seems to find a way to be found...
To become embraced.
As if to notice its familiarity.
And presence once not to accept.
Like...
Using the mind to think.
Instead of choosing to be thoughtless!