Potency

It has to be the potency.
Of a drug in secret mixed.
And fed to feed amongst the ones,
Pledging a loyalty to a 'clique' fixed...
On a power to get.
Laid on top of a brick wall.
Planned without a strategy.
Or a net that catches,
Anyone standing tall.
Who may fall off the wall.
Since bluster to blow,
Presents little if any competition...
To an unexpected blowing wind.

Although...
Those flying high,
In imagined cloudless skies.
Determined this sensation,
Soars to ignore the ramifications...
Of a destination that hits,
Their heads against every brick.
Are too numbed to overcome,
A flight intended...
May not be the one meant.

Yet...
The more their heads hit bricks,
They appear and seem...
Convinced.
That wall of power to obtain,
Prevents others from doing the same.
And makes them jealous.
Jealous they have not been invited,
To split their heads open wide.
Exposing...
Nothing inside.
But an emptiness to delude,
A power to hold onto exclusively.

Done.
With this to prove,
A blinding self destruction...
Has tremendous benefits.
Among those chosen.
To leave few left to dispute or argue.
After witnessing,
Such power to have it...
Neither has them awed,
Jealous with envy nor breathless!

'Never will there be an ever,
Will we allow you...
To reach the power we have achieved!'

'Okay!