Our kind delights to take apart the whole,
and scatter its fragments with horrible
pleasure. We always seize and spill the cup
so that it never is more than half full.
Through many shrieks of selfishness, the wraith---
of prejudicial angers, rages, wraths---
incarnates in the strawing man, and vaunts
itself, luring the victims that it haunts
(with suave persuasion and not brute coercion)
to stray off from the good way and old paths
toward strange and shadowed venues of perversion.
How can we, then, find knowledge of the soul;
with our propensity to screw it up?---
we can obtain it, now, only by Faith.
Therein lay the power and the
Therein lay the power and the reach of faith in each individual!
here is poetry that doesn't always conform
galateus, arkayye, arqios,arquious, crypticbard, excalibard, wordweaver
Thank you so much for that
Thank you so much for that validation. Coming from you, that means a lot to me.
Starward