Discredits my regard for their notoriety,
And blesses me with a sense of perpetual anxiety -
Of a peculiarly perplexing variety
I shall not feed off of their avarice,
I might as well hunt my own discordant vice,
And when I do find it, oh it shall be nice!
To give headache to aspirin and trap to the mice
The purveyor of all that’s possible and pure,
Informed me that King-Kong had died from the cure,
And all that disorder could never restore-
The pride of the prophet disguised as a whore
Eris herself did foretell this fable,
Baphomet resonated from her perch on the gable,
Threatening to pull the plug and disable-
Everything that relied for it’s life on a cable
It’s not that esoteric if you’re that erudite,
Chaos holds us together so believe what you might,
It paints a utopia in grey, black and white,
Where all that darkness renders, it surrenders to light.
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2 comments:
even chaos is quite predictable... in the end.
but then you have to chase it. all the time.
and that's a tedious, incessant task, and very unrewarding.
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