Mad Lews
01-11-2008, 06:19 AM
Patrons and eternal matrons of the arts, you must nourish
The proud, though pompously penned men you select
To sit in tightening circles and knowledgeably knit
While trembling critics label and dissect
For into structure all that is must fit.
Ah, but structure steadily, stealthily, reduces range
And rage is spent on the gathering of fame.
Once gathered, security must be maintained
For armed with less how could we be chained?
Fenced in amongst our wealth of wrath and pain
With the pious fervor of a drunken monk
Who mocks the god’s growing greatness
Cynics are made to be born
Madness wavers and is torn
On the convolutions and depressions of the mind
Taking up the sacral function to seek out and find
The ephemeral illusions that might lead the blind
The proud, though pompously penned men you select
To sit in tightening circles and knowledgeably knit
While trembling critics label and dissect
For into structure all that is must fit.
Ah, but structure steadily, stealthily, reduces range
And rage is spent on the gathering of fame.
Once gathered, security must be maintained
For armed with less how could we be chained?
Fenced in amongst our wealth of wrath and pain
With the pious fervor of a drunken monk
Who mocks the god’s growing greatness
Cynics are made to be born
Madness wavers and is torn
On the convolutions and depressions of the mind
Taking up the sacral function to seek out and find
The ephemeral illusions that might lead the blind