What is the nature of a sunrise driven, from night's bossom, unprepared? What does it whisper to the spreading shadows, created from the very rays it has cast??? They, the siblings of war and sickness wracked, with foam from the endless sea mingled, trickling down below the seafloor from every obvious crack,... forced doggerel, I'm sure will find, a steady audience of ignominy, intolerance, and just plain high mentality lacked. But what one is given spirit to deliver, said. One must duly declare, promptly and without insult, alive or dead.
And what about they whom in fellow man trust has merrily lost? How do they face every day, whence in every single instance they must linger in existence kept, by the very communal actions of so many like that one, by so many whom that one cannot bring oneself to trust? Which is fallacy and which is fact? Who prospers in denying us knowledge, from freedom from all lies out minds distract? Salient, but arete, an amused smile forming, complete. They who are stars may find need to dance in the mud, but they remain stars even in so doing, for good quality is lost by one's own folly done, and not by actions attributed to any other one...
No comments:
Post a Comment