too many nights i ponder,simply in wonder:
true blasphemy becomes the only trail
marked by "Holy"men; my path torn asunder
thrown for "logics" & Linguistics' folly the travail
stolen from personal quest,the zest for the journey
lost: no more nomadic herocy these men nay the Fools'
scripture that logically can't be adequately translated
they claim absolution with ritual turning divine the tiny
minded self(organization)-serving tricksters,tools
be they,bring to light the divinty of truth once adapted
into the symbolism of "self-proclaimed" flawed beings:
can four dimensions be represented with no parchment?,
no materials to refine into structure no findings
to support existence other then existence,prepare your reproach-ment.

(reader be aware poetic license is in high effect)