My friend, I would absorb your plight if only I could for I know how it rules you
but let not your dreams’ deaths stay dead like the long absent father of joy
Grow strong, grow tall, and grow wise to the telltales of delusionary lore
for we both know that the Tree of Life bears many fruit
but too little good it does for the carnivorous hearts of men like us
for no salt of the earth can please our tongue, no river of joy can satiate our thirst
and no well-intended lie can ease the terrifying truth that we are utterly incurable
--Preston
No comments:
Post a Comment