Prismatic dictator

Think.

Creation blooms and a pure thought is born
From the stillness and purity of Mind's perfect form.
Since inception it's intention to propagate flawlessly,
To intrinsically merge with the whole of humanity.

But now intercepted, mutilated, corrupted, dessecrated,
Crudely recreated, replicated and forceably re-transmitted.
Still beautiful to see but carrying a plague of pure hatred and yet
Still unsated, this creation of desperate wills banded together, cold love mated with unthinking elation.

Sent forth! This beam is prismed to colours, each the singular focus of one perception of man, unbiased in their sole goal to wrest reality from hands of the pure.
Injected In! This friendly syringe feeds a sickly addictive sweet tasting filth straight into your open-doored conscious, utilising the latest fashionable doctrines to bypass your strongest moral defenses.

And now the bleached remains lie parched and entangled, mangled and listlessly drifting amid once beautiful oceans, before so tranquil. Chaos and hell descended has deafened all quiet stillness, but left nothing in its wake but twisted dreams and scattered fragments. Collapsed channels remain constricted, containing the scattered detritus of it payload, the ruthlessly discarded DNA of the mind's true seed unsowed. Error after error perpetuates the downward spiral as this apocalyptic miasma encroaches upon every last bastion of hope, the soul's defenses inhibited by the crucial crux of the program, controlling its own crushing, endless loop...

So think.