NO REGRETS FOR THE OVER-SKILLED Do not think honor me For honor does not come alone from stringed words But instead think of a masculine mind in a boyish brain Skillfully orchestrating the vague words that ebb and flow through time and space penetrating the thickness of lost thought and confused consciousness In vivid proportions And lively countenances dont you see them in disorder? And they need fine tuning yes? but has this mind skilled too much? Must I leave her asunder? And what of my words? They be free to roam in the nothingness of space? Where there lies no introspect? I take no regrets in over thinking For that is the power which drives the mind to assemble these vague words into strings of orchestra strings of pictures otherwise these words be like free radicals imploding the mind inside-out
Posted on: Sun, 04 Jan 2015 01:36:43 +0000