Author Information
Hermit
Folder:
DEAD MEMORY
The nervous hermit needs self-control
in his pursuit for solitude and spiritual demeanor,
casting the fluster of a blank brain away,
which, we know, is idle enough for evil to enter.
Nothing is ever truly alone. Those who know
the crazy clinging to an indecipherable
iniquity, know also the discernment of others'
presence in the perilous party of people.
Perpetually pardoning to find only self again,
to be safe, learning the compassionate laws.
Aw shucks, I know someone
Aw shucks, I know someone just like this . . . much to my everlasting regret. Except, unlike the last line, he has never learned compassion. Because he was a relative, I cannot further identify him.
Starward