writer asks:
Do you not care what is happening?
Poet replies:
All is temporal.
writer pleads:
Have you no compassion?
Poet replies:
Is fashion a spirit? Does vanity know the chasms of soul?
writer whines:
You, self serving, aggrandizer are final judgement?
Poet replies:
Can leaf know tree? To rail with gust of wind is the province of comedy and drama. Has a speck ever envisioned a vast horizon? Does even a star shine in the vacuums of the cosmos? Dear poor writer, keep to jottings and fickle weathers and not worry yourself on any numina or contemplations.
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 6:25 PM UTC
writer asks:
Do you not care what is happening?
Poet replies:
All is temporal.
writer pleads:
Have you no compassion?
Poet replies:
Is fashion a spirit? Does vanity know the chasms of soul?
writer whines:
You, self serving, aggrandizer are final judgement?
Poet replies:
Can leaf know tree? To rail with gust of wind is the province of comedy and drama. Has a speck ever envisioned a vast horizon? Does even a star shine in the vacuums of the cosmos? Dear poor writer, keep to jottings and fickle weathers and not worry yourself on any numina or contemplations.
