If you be knot.
As one thread.
Frayed and sticky
Ickle hooks flailing
To find, a watt's
Compatable
With this all as a whole
Into the voided
Spaced out into linear stretches
Gap
Missing in the act
Of thought moving my matters
To be the creative
Idea merchant, of a joke I made at myself.
That being funny thing as being.
Mortal
powerless as the most powerful
Deity stood among
All the lower typing's mascarading
As the upper echealons
Aspired to find confirmation
Of their own uncertainty
As to wit.
Of these people
laid baring, the loaded chance.
We got it wrong.
From the rungs, jumped passed.
On the ladder to the top
Of their pointless though invarient confusion
how did they hope..
How did they imagine to complete
The big picture
When square one looks a lot like
0
counting as less than they figurged
infinitly
capable of more than they could ever bring to bare
With there mechanisms
Teaching to ignore their own beings.
As more than the mechanisms
They wished to be.
Well.. and unwell.
Don't turn away, from the quest, from the truth
That time will tell.
Them, they gave up, on square one, and every square since, is undermined, and flawed.
Don't be the fools..
Those phantoms take for granted
Will's given away, and kneel
To the lowest
common denomiter
Still..
At nothing, that moves lower than the pointy ends of
Zero.
Heroicaly counting all the potentials it could be.
Laughing at me...
For my own tiny monkey apperatus.
Is
the best I got.
W