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BREATHE DEEP the absinthe fume,
let emerald fairy grace the room
by the portal's manmade light
the tired verses I recite.
and none too little alcohol
the basis of the recipe
of 21st century alchemy.
lead to gold, who gives a shit?
there're faster ways to spin profit.
the elemental change I seek?
to spin a lion from the meek!
to spin a dream out of ennui
is all that can enlighten me
and yet the one who came before
made of the abyss he bore.
squandering a life away,
dreamless sleep as others play,
content not merely to stay here,
no, not fear.
the child that was lost to love,
the crippled, bleeding, mourning dove
the one God blest with everything,
the one DESTR0YED by chance meeting.
sheltered not the broken soul,
willing descent into the cold.
steadfast enduring on delusion,
is not deluded life illusion?
when finally thawed out of despair,
discovering it was not there,
the man wept not for his lost soul,
he doubted it was real at all.
if words are themselves symbols still,
these words are naught but wasted will.
if art is valued by expression,
see this not as a confession
but as a LIFE, led to its limit
not because its master's timid
fear itself is just a wall
hiding not a thing at all.