We are young men buried in books
Shoveling words every day
As we are gradually shaped into tools.

Ours minds drained deep in the pools
Of knowledge. So they say
We are young men buried in books.

We find ourselves caught in hooks
Of wisdom seekers shall we pray?
As we are gradually shaped into tools.

Exhausted, some will turn into crooks
While we proudly remain grey
We are young men buried in books.

We bear fruit of hope from the roots
Of pain so follow the rules we lay
As we are gradually shaped into tools.

Are we zombies in schools?
In our paths we never stray.
We are young men buried in books
As we are gradually shaped into tools.

Built on a foundation of wormwood
Cause Absinthe makes the heart grow ... Blonder

Oops, having one of those moments
But isn't that sexist, Redler?
Yea, if you believe in duality
And I'm Dogmatica to an end
My end is Anisotropica
I got there through Riparia
And the Bidirectional Reflectance Distribution Function
BRDF for short
Basically, seeing all sides independent of illumination source
And, of course, interdependent of POV

Okely Dokely

Peas out

And care rotz

You embellish my life, I cherish your love, trust and the time you take just to make me smile

My eyes awe at the sight of your visage. It must have taken God eight days to perfect you before his eyes.

You gave me hope when I thought I  was lost. Your voice is melody echoing the sounds of joy.

In your arms, I am in a garden of heaven basking in bliss, resting in peace but alive and indeed enjoying the aroma of elation swaying with the wind.

Your mind is an abyss sated with emptiness,spore of an ink-jet,
the heart is erupting with repugnant repulsiveness.
Your conscience ravage by your impulsive act.
You indulge in savagery shackled by misery creativity is a mystery .

You diverged from an honest life and now you're perjuring in art you dark-prowlers.
Converged with parasites marauding, Proud-Writers.

Cursed with uncertainty you're embracing lies, in the realm of thieves there's a decaying crown.

The heart grows warm as the fog is lifted. While the warm light rises above the sun, enlightening the blinded but gifted.

Amated by The smell of roses, swaying with the wind while it caresses the skin, enchanting the soul as you gently breath.
The mind calm as the breeze, teeming with serene thoughts and bliss. Elation being the kiss from nature at peace.

As the day retired the moon provided a sit and we gazed at the sunset while the roses went to sleep.

I'm horrified by atrocious images that consume my mind. Society is the devil without horns feeding me lies.
When the truth is, paedophiles hide behind the robes of the pope.
Pigs bath in the mud of corruption, assume high positions, incarcerate victims while the streets are flooded with villians.
I'm in a forest of lost souls and weeping spirits, where beauty is another fallen tree.
I realise that heroes are but words and words have become the heroes.

I am wounded by questions, as to why I do not honour the beauty of love, but an eagle can not dance in the clouds without its feathers. Shackled by the chains of misery, I find that in love I can not go further.
I'm an iron bent by the hammer of pain. My path is abundant with emptiness, love is yet to lead me astray.

In the rain of my tears I see a rainbow coloured with hope of escaping my fears enlightening my heart as the path to love appears.