I wish you all the best of luck
Stuck mucked in your mud of chains
You remain tucked in your box
Locked in a pocket, fastened by the masses

It jumps like a feather on breeze, my mind
No weight, it sifts simply through rhyme and time
Leaving those, all you, behind
In your finite sight, flying out to night
Emblazoning a bright light high in the sky
A fire broad, blazing, alight

I don't know what it entails
Purpose lost is not purpose failed
Spinning around 'round trailing tail
Spinning off off into the distance pale
Flying straight spiraling twice
A paragon of disjointed flight

A thousand tones, a million hues
Surround me in my feral blues
I fill the sky with a night or two
And suffer speckled starlight through
All for what, but more for who
The world, it dances to my tune
I bend the ties that forge the truth
And beg sooth's solid seams to move
I soar above beyond the couth
Into the vast beyond that roof
I rend the workings of the truth
And beg sooth's solid seams to move
Pretend, or is it really truth?
And beg sooth's solid seams to move

Penned by my hand on the 10th of Ero, in the year 329 AF.