May the Malevolent hold the right
Uphold the sole truth used to drive our times?
Has he the find that rends minds not in ill-will
But in ringing reality and stinging verity?

View the Lady of the Theater
Wrapped 'round in feeling
Reeling from the word surrounding
Confounding everyone else as well
A death knell heralding the end of sanity's spell
The Stealing Shadow comes to grips
Matching wits with wit's own fit of love
Sunken below, never rising above it
Shoving it down under the ground
To hide that life and pain
We're all the same
The Learner writes about a smiting bout of hurt
Words lurch right and left about theft of happiness
And yet less than lines before we've adore
Of the dove of love and the pleasures thereof
Enough.

Again I ask, is that task embodied by the devil
We call Evil, the people we dread in bed
For threat of loss of head, those who we would
Deem unworthy of the Light (and should)
Those who couldn't care a hair where our opinions stood
Say they seek the advancement of society
I see the grief breezing through the scenery
Bellowed on by this deceit of emotional serenity
That might make the sound of "love" a cause of profanity
And wonder if emotions are a disease of humanity

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Post Script:

But remember this section
Is but a question
A bout of suggestion
Open to impression


Penned by my hand on the 6th of Chronos, in the year 329 AF.