we could sing some crazy half-
song; come, come on and along
and come harmonize. if not us,
then hunger-pains growling
can lead the line. and maybe
throw some stones to judge the
water sat tranquil; air
as other viscosity. breath-
less diving, racing stones to
bottom, yet vessel, feigning,
finds panic without gills.
hold breath till they find
their evolving times; die to
repetition, (along the way,
a few million times) we tend
to lose track, though. often.
always. another word here
to describe mans' deceptive time.
we could sing some crazy half-
song; come, come on along
and let us cease rocks thrown
through water at
the man trying so hard to drown.
the man hoping so full that
his organs be traded; skip
effort of a couple millennia.
like darkening skin without a sun;
evading darkness as well as Light.
striding on and over, bringing
prophetic words to forced-truth
on par servilitous, as
the mind's eye shuts another time;
perchanced final, no death knell.
we could sing some crazy half-
song; come, come on and along
and come see him float the stones
thrown to water's bed, on back
of he whom failed to adapt.
failed to rush the process;
failed to see himself as the first -
beginning, to start the queue.
the stones had long been yearning
to float as not to be
any longer thrown-judgement.