a lake, mountains, the sky,

cold iron, and gold. these are the miracle metals of our clockwork shell.

a world in which you can lose

bearing. a heavy price

imposed on the atmospheric hues. necessity demands the ingredients.

a people entranced by blue

lakes, the sky, and screens.

following the clear roads

and avoiding all the lights. calling all masquerade attendees.

staring at the boundless sea, a conglomeration of ore,

the destination shines bright

for the contented vagrant turtles. hapless faded manufacturers.

their ordinance seemingly unclouded

in a land of tranquility, serenity, and animosity. me.

welcome to our dreamscape depicted in blue.