A-Maze

To Quench Thought in the marvel of a mind,

the thinking kind,

to deliver Centuries lost as a learning to cost,

lends life a light,

a guide to teach not take,

not break the Will,

so you may stay,

in this thwarted till.

In Ancient Times study of death,

created a way a direction to say;

Life Continues.

So many Realms to Cross,

to Pass-Over or Through,

an understanding lost,
 returns to you.

Discarded are these maps,

for points of view,

referred too and said to confuse,

so that you take your eye off Sake!!

Why does Humanity believe,

that You do not have to work through,

the Darkness too??.

With Light there is Black,

in each begin there is an end,

in every Road traveled,

there must be a reason to journey.

Surrounding Nature's display,

Her quest seems so grand,

how does Man remove himself,

as not part of this Plan?

The very breath afforded Our life,

is given by that which is discarded as used.

Should We not also be of Use?

Or, do You believe that the Work to Be,

to Produce is only for Consume?

In every effort energy expends itself so naturally!!

To discount what you do not See,

cannot appreciate, as yours for the taking,

dismisses the ride it took to produce your need, or required want,

without thought to the development of that which You take for granted,

A Query

Thought of Require in Action,

know Penance-Inn-Sentence!

Such a blight created in permanence,

taking offense!!??

A reverence too dutiful curve,

leans only to babble,

in worlds due.

The pleasantries of verse,

often do not reverse the damage,

enormous disadvantage to this land,

served with flavor,

no taste to savor.

The emptiness strides across countless lives,

the sadness of "Die" will only cry,

in this strange night,

a void with know sight!!

Ignorance to what is known,

will be the reveal in the text,

of no deal: Repressed!!

The ultimate test,

when Rest becomes Work,

Study becomes absurd,

Thinking criticized as berserk!!

The talent of sum,

calls to add only the dumb,

merely lacking speech,

considered meek,

cast aside as thoughtless life,

increased the wealth of hear!!

Balanced in the Wild,

by each Creature,

bound by tongue,

it is the communication of some,

to indicate no silence,

when writing deduces: Shunned.

The cruelty in such acts,

caused insolence to become,

the weight of lost,

found in wrung.

The bell that does not toll,

when the horn shall blast,

with stories past,

brings present history,

too last!!

The spice in wrath,

a longing,

held to task,

delivering Minds to blast,

the words of verse in bath!!

The Stones ringing Truth,

answer only fear,

should meanings not clear,

be interpreted not read,

for a path.

The Quest of a Journey,

which steeps in learning,

in the absolute,

not burning the speech of the native tongue,

will become that what has already summed.

Lost are the roads leading to roam,

the distance to fields,

burnt the Fodder as fuel,

to resist that which must persist:

the truth

A Loaded Life

As I Look,

into the sights of time,

I see the bliss of eternity,

as the shining light into the Cold.

Difference shapes Itself!!

The Acception,

to the rule,

a refining of Life.

Arriving in this Midst-of-Change,

I hold to what I know,

a comfort in-spite of this Throw!!

Challenged by a Life-of-Pain

The rugged appeal of unknown,

'Continues'

too Call my Name!!

I rifle through each thought,

to study reason,

not fraught.

To Write of an Insight

The Dynamics of the spoken verse,

when not rehearsed,

brings to light,

'An Explosive Pass'

The Gains-In-Such,

a natural thought,

Delivers Plot,

if sought.

A search with-in,

the singular desire,

of Learned.

Given too a Riddle,

a Sense of Predisposed.

A walk of an Ink-Filled Pen,

to explain parchments duty to record,

a chiseled approach,

to a gifted begin.

Should 'Lies' rule 'The Tongues' of a Surround,

than "To Write"

is to dig,

Carving-Out,

a sounding board.

To produce Reason,

a rationale reply,

an explanation of;
"Why do People lie?"

To obtain Natural-Knowledge,

through the Means of nothing more,
than thinking,
discovers an insight,
'Lost Times'

How much is Missing,
Ignored or Torn,
from the
Pages of History,
to Show,
that We're Born?

'The Study' of Reflection,
a Named interest,
Philosophers Play!

Obscure,
pushed-from,
as a threat,
Archaic-in-Set,
Heresy if said.

The endurance of such hatred,
must stem from an endeavor,
to expose an untruth,
a sorted past,
a developed lie,
a Conscience try,
A Do or Die!

Such Passion is burnt into Some,
to bring forward,
a World: Knew?

Pulsing in Ones Veins,
for reason not vain.

For Surely to pursue such course,
wisdom of past actions,
seem invested in Deep Wells of my Mind,
causing distress,
to equal best.

The forward detail,
of not taught,
but a Tale of a Tell,
Speaking Naturally.

Oh Well

Could it be a Wish,
a Spoken Dish,
a Sage coming to Age,
to Compose the Life,
a natural re-frame,
of so many buried claims?

To Bite upon "The Steal" of Truth,
an Iron,
a Signature Cue,
as a natural alarm,
to alert, not harm.

A New Yarn

The Blast of Passed

The Arc of Knowledge,

steeps itself in learning.

The Depths of Desire,

to interest,

One's Self!

As Each Inquiry,

of the mind's thought,

links itself,

too A-Lot.

It shall be up to the individual, 

(Self)

to sort-or-reason out the spontaneity,

of Such connections.

In Order, too Relate,

what may be relative today.

As Time shall pass,

the capacity for growth,

is only inhibited,

by a surround of fear to do so.

Although this Halts,

such an Ideal,

it also increase strange old methods,

expediting a greater need to abolish,

'the promising thinker'

as a heretic or the like.

What is Interpreted,

as a threat to known acceptance,

of unknown existences,

should be observed with Interest.

A different,

possibly objective,

certainly progressive thought,

into the indifference,

of Why reason,

is such an incredibly denied and/or hated,

Point-of-Reference.

Not for a Begin but a Continue,

of what has yet to happen.

All in the simple,

yet complex review,

of only One thought,

linking the explosive nature,

of a natural progression to grow.

Thinking in-to Knew.

Will 'Change' deliver,

Should, or, just remain in, Could?

Making Present,

'Wrongs to Right'

or

leaving Minds so uptight,

that the twist becomes the bind,

to leave behind,

so We cannot find,

Peace-in-Mind.

To what End,

with "No-Begin"

will Humanity stop the blend,

of taking others,

and not themselves to a point of Accountability.

Seemingly in History Past,

the rope did snap the neck of so many,

that had no opportunity to just Turn and Walk-Away.

That display,

was left for the Accusers-of-the Day.

Therefore, did Justice Serve,

on the grounds which we should fret?

And not Merely Accept, because it's not You.

'The Why' Does Not Confuse Me, Rather Eludes You....

The Words that People Spew,

are the Garbage,

of what Humanity never Cleans-Up!!

Clinging to Obsessiveness,

making You liable,

for Speech-Itself.

To be Sorry,

for such Foul Demonstrations,

of Your,

Poisonous Verse,

is not Only Counterproductive to Thought It-Self.

In addition to that statement,

I include this also.

Admission of Your Guilt,

uttering such Ill-Repute in the First Place,

is a selfish-state of affairs,

not 'An Apology,'

to repair.

To Destroy,

with such Exact & Pointedly Clear Attacks,

is just Offensive,

not deadly in the end.

That which does not kill Us,

makes us 'Better.'

Rage to Recover

A Runic Tale

BDSM, The Men of Been -

I remember the "Time of Was!"

Do you believe, could it be?

A time again to see?

Wishing that you were near me

has done more harm than good.

Better yet, the Templar's wept,

for even they can't stop; but should.

End this pain of stakes between,

the sexes have gone bad!!

Just as you said,

"You have no Dad"

if snuffing you is good.

To put simply, to put to an end,

the misery of such.

I shut my mouth, waited: (Stealth)

Until an age I could.

Defend your Honor,

Men of Means,

stature which showed bold.

In this I frame, a picture still,

and utter words of, "Dam."

To give "Not Chance,"

to educate,

a girl of dirty men at home.

You taught of "All" I didn't know

and made me, well,

say, "No."

So, off I charged,

not into life, nor into any despair.

For, I was shown a better path,

a road that lead to "Archaic Rath."

I still search,

for what I knew.

I know in heart you're there.

I bare the News, of also, Too,

to tell to each of you.

In discreet and polite manner,

I fear that you do know!

This girl grew-up and now she says,

"Stand back, I speak of true!"

What you do, or shall we be,

communication shy.

There is no sickness,

nor a crime,

with Men who use their Mind.

To stop the madness, or, expose the truth,

with means and wares not seen.

For if the known became so common,

than why cover all that's due?

~ ~ ~