Later-day

In evil, well, most of it, done by the hands of people.
Enticing some to create art, devoting to those actions. Under tyrant rule, actions become easier, thinking becomes more dangerous, poetry is forgotten. Olive trees and their branches, dry up and sink inself, to be smaller.
Expel.
Perhaps we should rage war on normal people, the mundane, the laymen. The ones who discuss light substance conversation, held at the coffee shops. In a world that constantly changes, masses and evolving into higher needs. There will be nothing left to believe in.
Maybe
it is not the normal people we should kill in mass waves, just the ones who avoid life. Leading paths to tyrants.
I’m in exile.