Analysis of FIASCO

Flames blue and red, with a touch of yellow,
Just to arouse a difference.
But still a blinded sight,
To the stubbornness, of an actuality,
Clear and precise, but refused in its perceive.
Two positives repel.
And here, the opposites are tried in one matter.
How they bless with confusion.
How they influx, with dismay,
Ravaging, all forms of reasoning, to begat regret.
How long can the mind,
Hold a thing, that is not, as though it is.
How long can air be toxic,
And chemicals, rage in adamancy.
The combustion chambers, working in synchrony, to harness,
Chaos, in all its beautiful expressions.
What is purpose, without desire.
What is longing, without an absence.
Lightning starved thunder bolts,
All born out of a quest for dominance.
The wind blows fear,
And turmoil is the order of the day.
Rocks, smashed against rocks, as the waves,
Waves of anger and fury,
Move in-between sanity.
Tribes war and tribes roar.
We are the existence of our creation.