I hesitate to write,
On this cold, rainy day,
As I do not trust what...
Secrets I give away...
Perhaps, I do not trust all of you -
Unable to predict, how you use...
Where could I bury these seeds?
Where, while winter does not cease?
That they may be kept warm and safe
To blossom into grand debates...
A hint, as he likes speaking -
Alas, his heart is leaking...
Strange and bizarre, I want -
Hopes of astral travels,
But with such a long jaunt -
Will our minds unravel?
Now, I would be run out of town,
Derided as an insane clown
Lost in visions, from minds unbound...
And left to grieve, alone and down.
what strange magics are at work?
what laws do not bend?
What perplexes, now and then?