Isn't it magnificent,
That the purest of joy.
And the most evil of hate.
Are just combinations,
of the same thing
That every good deed,
and every bad.
Has been just a random mix,
of this set?
That every novel,
every conversation,
every poem.
Is just a pattern,
Within a limitation.
That giving thanks
and throwing a curse.
Are only seperated by
a special sequence.
Of the same letters.
Think how a change,
in the blueprints of words
Make them sharp as a knife.
Or warm as an embrace.
Everything is
made with only
26 letters
Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 12:22 AM UTC
Isn't it magnificent,
That the purest of joy.
And the most evil of hate.
Are just combinations,
of the same thing
That every good deed,
and every bad.
Has been just a random mix,
of this set?
That every novel,
every conversation,
every poem.
Is just a pattern,
Within a limitation.
That giving thanks
and throwing a curse.
Are only seperated by
a special sequence.
Of the same letters.
Think how a change,
in the blueprints of words
Make them sharp as a knife.
Or warm as an embrace.
Everything is
made with only
26 letters
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