Just Another Zen Poem
All the words in the world cannot save this Tune your whistles, to be a a sure fire thing For the beginning and end is but a kiss bear with me while I write this something... Hear ye oh noble creatures of the great untold! Even though these worlds are feeble As the great unknown consumes and dissolves We become free from the pain of pluralized people Let us not only whisper at the faults of babel but rage and wail at the foundations of that quintessential fable tongue in cheek I say this, this linguistic self destruction.. Let forth the love of the great and fearsome mystery I pour myself into it, for it can hold such passion You see, there is no end to fakery So I stay with what cannot be fashioned Peace, Is priceless no doubt Such implications and directions can be told But the anguished and inevitable shout of the longing love is not to hold Loose thyself, as I have loosed you in my mind Let it go, no matter the great and terrible fear of loss There is a grander and unseen design Enjoy and breathe and play and let the critics rot! With all my heart.
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