When I go through my mind
Of the days past events
The days
Past experience
I sometimes think nothing has happened at all
Honks horns home and humming
Were all things to past the time
A time
That at the time did not seem to important
A head nod to a pretty lady
With eyes that would melt even the sun
That would ******* the world's strongest man
That would have Zeus stuttering for a number
Because
Where the God's falter
Men are born
Men flourish
Men believe they are victorious
What a hock
Of steaming
****
A fable is born from the naive minds of man
That tells them
With warm milk on the night stand
That these "achievements" are grand and reputable
That the difference is in the pudding
Yes
We have advanced quite a bit seen some things spoken some crude beauties
But what of the mountain in Parnassus
Where the dancing devils flute in hand played music
That no man, when heard, could stand
Where the beauty, where the sound, where the majesty
Was just to great to bear
Madness draws the one's that hear
The see
That touch
And that breathe
This beauty in
But it is a poison
It is a poison that makes fellows
Chop their fingers off
Eat paint
Walk head high into a river
Drink themselves to death
Waste away in some bed
But now
We praise the ones that create
Blood splattered portraits for the blind
We applaud the fuel man for the rising flame of the illusion of the human ego
And we love it
We adore it
We need it
We are addicted to
Ourselves
And we don't even know it;
Yet