lovers of words
we build dungeons;
lovers of words
we forge our own chains;
lovers of ideas
we inhale illusions:
the mind confronts the world
(rarely does it meet the world)
and the mind confronts the world
like a careless driver who hits a tree
and then considers what is to be done;
like how a group might attempt to control
a river that runs through the village;
and the mind creates ideas
to overcome, to control, to transcend
and the mind is
trapped in words
(loves words for its gentle touch)
and so it builds wordy cages
builds for itself escapes
builds for itself diversions
and is manacled by words it plucks out of thin air
and that it develops into theories and ideas and revelation
(loves these for the relief)
and that become truth and immutable by time and repetition
and so the mind lies chained in it own prisons:
lovers of words
we build dungeons;
lovers of words
we forge our own chains;
lovers of ideas
we inhale illusions