To my Shame, this ever-growing
Kingdom, Ocean and Wilderness
I have come to craft, will last.
But unlike Kingdom, I dwell chaotically.
Unlike Ocean my body cannot stir
Unlike the wild, I cannot steel against my comfort and forge myself more sturdy ??

A dream is a well one looks down in
To draw oneself up.

Is it so, to me,
that All philosophy is
Is only so a tree might seek its roots to grow more vastly?

The self-pleasure in growth
The cantation of progress
The pride of the oath
The hubris of promise

In Ending or beginning?
Many things are unclear or unsure.
But foundations vary,
From weak to Most secure.

I want to build up upon
So go I,
Not weak or wary.
To the great beyon'.

Behind me is glass.
I have yet to look but afore me is
A whiggling lamp that un-eases my mind.
I see that I have yet to look but there it it is
So solid and reflective,
Glass,whose sheen has shown me
Halos of suspicion.
Whose shine has shown me
Eyes at my back.

The Worst thing about Evil,
Is that you might be in it for the Long Con;
The Worst thing about Good,
Is that it will only Work for Right Now.

Big bodies inside my mind
Slip along glass to find
I am not so see through.

Big gaps in small cracks, see,
Feel more like holes
Than any big ol' scream.