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"Non Sense"

To the first time for something and the last line I forgot, to the first rhyme and the last lie


The first crime and the last mind, for the last time. Visions passing visions oft lost to history


We rhyme in reasons mystery to create productivity. There may be none so desiring to read.


There may be that is, no mystery left but the mystery we create. Our first date. If love does


So desire me, in the first fire was three sticks and two stones, dropped after the spark made


Complete the trilogy, always remember that the villagers will see the smoke rise from bitter


Minds turmoil after vaunting from the faultless mount. One stone split, the spark was within.


Forevermore after the first took friction, the minds inclination to weave fiction with true


Sediment. The fruit, the stem, the seed. In a moments notice all lost to historic revelries


Between the man and the fiend, between the stone and the broken teeth, between


Evolution and heraldic angelicies, the seed fell, and the spark ignited, and from the fire


The candle was lighted. Led by hand back into the cave, to shine evermore into minds


Vast expanse. Of nothingness, of enlightenment, of giving back to what hast been gave.


Three worlds, three sticks, in vast articulate arraignment. Who sowed the seed, who planted


The tree that has been standing naked for millions of years. Could a tree change through


Time, could a man change his mind, could evolution have been yet just another break.


To the writing on the wall, to the call, between man & beast & slave! Between opening up


The secret entrance, between closed and shut up golden boardered hardwood case with


Two clasps, within, aghast, we move forward on through the darkly lit tomb, the candle still


Looms deep seeded within the hollow's core. The path of the beam the entrance it seems


Has hidden itself again, past turning around, past giving into the sound, of the screams on


The other side of death, the mirror, the room, the chair, and as soon as it appeared, gone.


Head tilted below, no sound and no glow, the vast expanse of nothingness hast just been


Removed. In an instant it seams, the whole picture is bleeding, spilling paint from the canvas


In drone sequential bliss. One frame after another, infinitesimally uncovered, one after one


Againe, barely the twist, the frame tilts and shifts, and the room spins backwards through


Time after time, the marble again, is but the weight of a meaningless climb.

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