The Surreal Election

In a realm where dreams intertwine,
the election unfurls like a tapestry,
politicians morphing into bizarre creatures,
giant birds with feathers of gold,
their beaks sharp with impossible promises,
each squawk a glittering lie,
echoing through a sky heavy with expectation.

Invisible hands reach out,
fingertips grazing the air,
offering visions wrapped in smoke,
“Choose us, and you shall soar!”
Yet the citizens, a menagerie of the mundane,
creep forward — bears in bowler hats,
toasters with gleaming chrome smiles,
each caught in the web of illusion,
casting votes in ways unknown.

They gather on the edge of a pit,
a fiery abyss that flickers and roars,
where choices dissolve into embers,
each creature hurling itself into the flames,
a sacrifice for the promise of change,
as the heat swirls, twisting their forms,
melting hopes into the ether.

The air hums with the whir of machines,
abstract and monstrous,
devouring the essence of those unseen,
as shadows of the past flicker,
each vote absorbed into the void,
distorting the line between choice and fate,
a dance of dehumanization.

In this surreal election,
the outcome is a mirage,
as citizens dissolve into the chaos,
their voices mingling with the smoke,
lost in the promise of a future
that never quite arrives,
a kaleidoscope of broken dreams
reflecting the absurdity of power.

So let the birds sing their hollow tunes,
and the invisible hands weave their spells,
for in this realm, the election unfolds,
a spectacle of absurdity,
where the illusion of choice reigns supreme,
and the surreal echoes of a forgotten past
linger in the air like ghosts.