Gently my skin is dressed
In chilling realization
Through condensation of the fog
That I walk through every day
Drenching me in Ideas
I hold thought within me
As humanity clouds my soul
I hold thought within me
As inanity invades the bowl
That is my skull
Where resides a machine
Infinite and confined
Violent and gentle
Through persistent nettle
I travel
To hear the kettle
Warning me
Telling me
Showing me
What is my own
And how I should hear
My own tone
Thought
You which is what makes me
Without what could I be
No ocean wild and free
No boundless fields
Without you how could I see
The beauty of the stars
How could I see
The planted tree
And your magnificent seeds
Thought
You which is what creates
What is you but to be
In nature you are out
Unnatural to the world
Yet you make sense of it all
With such perfection
Such precision
Black sheep of the universe
Rejected by every world you touch
But accepted by those you clutch
And become
Thought
You which is what makes me
How much more every day
Could you be
How much more normalcy
Could you need
Than thought
It's complete persistence
Always and forever
A clock that will never unwind
Thought
Incomprehensible
The breath of the mind
Grasped from a need to survive
A treasure picked from a random bag
So much different
Than the world it is from
You are wonderful
A lover
And a foe
My best friend
And my worst enemy
I hate you with all I have
And I give you all I know
For to be is to hate and love
To know is to think
To think is to have thought
And with thought
Is to be human