Warbling

Every Source has an Origin,

each origin has a sport,

the beginning is as One makes Two to the third,

Zero,

a Circle to a blurb,

signing the aspect of the rooted note.

The define of Infinity as the Mathematical,

of the greatest circle,

to the most intense line,

of the balance in the breadth,

of Singularity in Itself.

To Meet as Joining,

the Team of I,

simply is the complexity of,

James Blunt Esq.

To negate facts for dollars exacts,

the brush will paint,

the oil will be,

the Vinegar of a Speak.

The Fool rushes in,

the coward pushes back,

the Truth needs no rendition,

when permission allowed the use.

Problem the equation to Abused.

Aptly Titled for Futured past,

Some Kind of Trouble,

played this rather telling rue,

not for I, nor James Blunt but rather for all of those that have and will continue the lie.

An Inconvenient Truth,

already played through,

to gently explain the happenings of this day yesterday.

The interim is nothing more than passed,

the identity is so much in known,

the ability is a dual zone,

for in any War of any Kind,

where Two or Three do sign,

the inevitable drops no dime,

'cause calls cost more than the quarter dropped.

Zero has one square root which is 0,

by design of reason,

the Math adds Naturally to Exact a problematic fact,

separation is ill-advised,

for Infinity has Eyes.