The dead they say can't live, ironical but true, they yet live, a "life in after". Their realities away from reality and consciousness in dead unconsciousness. There goes the story of an unruly nation, dead yet alive in optical illusion, like a mirage to onlookers with brightness slapping the crests of ground bringing oblivious smirks to eyes and unturned grins to lips and cheeks. A nation shortsighted in course - in deciet to forward movement, a Royal Rumble to the stomach, - thus a regurgitated flow for undigested plans. A Captain on reverse set motion pressuring his sailing - in backward thrusts, points forward to his crew - while steadily on a counter-clockwise right propelling. A nation left domiciled in a life after while in consciousness of breath. *** Hello dear Captain, we'd rather anchor drop, deep dive, cling to immobile bottom rocks, take a swim in defined consistent spots, charge the bloody eyeshots of sharks, than negatively sail. *** Tha
