Bizarre Writing Prompt #4

In a water full of glass there is a taste of lime and soot. Do you breathe the cane, feel the unfelt? What conifers of miscarried justice do the malign tout upon rafters of sense and sensibility? Is there a way to out the Thatchers of yesternow? Does true change ride on the wings of immediacy, burnt from guns and fiery mouths like muzzles, or does it rise like water, a flood of ten thousand