The mad engineer steps aside,
He baits a hook with one of her pearls.
Take note, a photonic illusion
as perfect as a lake in fog.
Missives from dark water
fishes, serpents, eels,
dance across the floor of our house,
They pivot and twist when they are cut.
Each deserves the right, somewhat, to decide its own death.
At some point much will be divulged.
All will be shown.
Only what has been shared
may be saved.
Miriam Dactyls met Sondre Destre,
I read her a rich psalm, thrice to remove
every troll and trill.
If Logos has gone, then Madness shall write its own record.
"The Liberty of Fools."
I doubt we'll see it,
September came and passed and then made time
for the beginning of a new reign. So be it.
Tigers are in the bush,
So are cobras, glossy black.
I doubt we'll see it,
September came and passed and then made time
for the beginning of a new reign. So be it.
Tigers are in the bush,
So are cobras, glossy black.
