About
Far let the eye dream what the mouth forbid say...
Where the heart forbid go...
Sound.
To be heard is nothing.
To be partially understood is everything.
Hope to wish that one day
People will certainly recall
What antics lead to unprecedented methods
Be-smoothed upon lavender tablets
Recording chronicles of 'unimportant'
Events held dear to our hearts.
Ours has no end:
Eternal conflict ravages onward.
We starve and crave for nourishment,
But the world refuses to give us feed.
We thirst and hunger for wisdom,
But the world wishes to block us from it.
We long for the day of understanding
And yearn for epiphany linked the world;
To be heard is nothing
If no one can hear.
To hear is nothing
If no one can speak.
To speak is nothing
If no one can understand.
Oh to what purpose?
Oh to what end and mean?
To what gift and sudden reaping?
Why do we plant in winter's field
Where crows snatch-up before rooting?
Long the purpose.
Long the battle.
Ever resolute the decision.
Ever steady the journey.
Ever steady the journey.
Journal
Waning Chiaroscuro
[:journal-description:] Everything written is juxtaposed between the boundaries of good and bad, brilliant and kitsch...
For me, this is the essence of poetry.
The explicit ramblings of a disgruntled rhapsodist.
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