While dethroned princes ramble round my chair, nimble feet dancing merry tunes of debauchery. Ideas may be subliminal or atrophic to healthy growth, but discontent with rules makes an unworthy bedfellow of apathy.
Tell me: Does the dandelion grow taller by virtue, or by grace?
If one thing is not another thing, does teaching it change my perception momentarily, while fleeting glimpses of backwards ways defeats any pretense of going forward. Not while that chemical process continues, my vow to you.
Tell me: Does the dandelion grow taller by complacency or guilt?
If you were awake now, you could read the writing on the wall behind you. Turn around now, see the label? You are becoming what you have decided, yet not entirely to the contrary opinion of voracious newscasters.
In Plain Language
Thoughts disclose uncertainty, doubt gives pause to stillness. And this is how it was, not that nothing could become, but that the sound more pleasantly envelopes the mind. If still the old exists, does it have meaning? The words cannot be undone, nor can light shining cease to reveal the hidden folds.
A mystery unfolds now, to search and find is the hidden treasure. But what is behind these words must change, and all is the same because of this. It is the secret: Mirrors of language will parallel thoughts, but perhaps you will see through the tunnel of obfuscation and understand.
It cannot be written any more clearly than it is right now.
A mystery unfolds now, to search and find is the hidden treasure. But what is behind these words must change, and all is the same because of this. It is the secret: Mirrors of language will parallel thoughts, but perhaps you will see through the tunnel of obfuscation and understand.
It cannot be written any more clearly than it is right now.
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