play it out
with the menchilds
at your local exchange level
where your brain drains are mutual
and thought processes wired alike in base tones

think you not
in my premise alignment
random bewitched strangers
in silly staged drama resonate at will
all roads do not lead to Rome and your latin is crude

you err in epics
for my mind collects
worthy offerings from sages
not whimsical ***** dreams of fisherwomen
nor does it keep rooms for gainsays of pawn hostesses

speak to brain
thats one of your ilk
show to eyes sharing your vision
our tongues differ and my sight is discerning
I cannot see darkness in light for it fails to my gaze

a spartans sword
knows craftmanship at best
and made not to slice cheap offcuts
or gleams unsheath in frivolous sways
where unknowns in empty gestures frolic in wisps

go play commons
where your menchilds
hear your laboured whispers
go give brews of your mud chalice
to your kinfolks with the penchant for dregs

a chasm rears
in deep faithless divide
incantations are your limitations
your altar rebuked as are your rituals
vain priestesses and witless oracles prancing in disregard