Nations  arose after the days of Peleg,
in the legendary story of Babel,
which
does have a present presence on the surface,
of the after Babel yon der myth of us
we the sapience augmented common sensed band,
single-sideband, of course, if you can cut the antennae,
to this old freq,
radioman entertainment zone, post
pasts unbelieved arizen
as we see around about us

we the beings thinking we were put here,
by no will of our own,
okeh? Hard for me to agree, for
I was a self-willed child, on the earth of 1954,
made unspoil-able, by my measure, sould,
so whatever I touch prospers,
it does not turn to gold, but time,
precious years
in days
proving once more, the way of life
remains reproof of instructions,
glitches gitinin, gremlins ist-hextical real messages,
say measure twice, cut once, keep plenty
of spare teleo-smores, say again
- whisper- find the answer -

DID is the strategy, not the disability.
Gitcheractagethah, adam henry….haul ***

Call the cops. I shot the sheriff.

Renegade boomers, eh? You seen some, h'eabouts?

Hunter people, no-sense talk babblers, yon der here
we come
sons of them guns was left.
Yep, ***** head on an old man in vietnam t'day,
tells a story told since ******'s,
time, at the briefest,
least heated
hate
instance of one once main flow, recirculating as the water
remembers,
all this did happen, parts of all of us were here,
in this moment, relative to you.

The entire creation groans in travail awaiting…

wait a minute.
we did do this, as a whole. See, besides knowns lost,
for their use in con structing the destructive idea given
Tubal-cain.
The enthrallment of Tubal-cain, you may imagine,
progressed with the reiteration of the father's curse on cain,

the signal emanating from the seed that knows the cost of dying.

Cain and Able, well, we have a few ways that tale makes the sense.
Have no fear, all that is past understanding, it cannot crush you.
Commoners hold the common sense, rule of reality.
Peace outward.
The commons are in fine shape,
fret not, we got some old peacemakers smoking flower,
blowing smoke up monstrosity's assine suggestion that I die.

But inside...I know
That perhaps of a spark of it is still there

And that very spark,
It will grow and grow, faster and faster...
Just like the way,
A perfectly round cherry does

And from that little orb of light,
It will bloom,
Burst.

Give way the gooey goodness inside.
Empty it all until it is free.

Explode.
Crackle.
As if celebrating its final achievement,
Showering sparks absorbed by the air.

As they heavily rain down,
Like a group of shooting stars.

What was once a spark...
Now a firework.

I would apologise
I would try to reassure
If I really were sure that I could
But I can never lie
As the world spins so do I
And the old artifacts I collected
Are nurtured by those who get it
If I display my wares
There's no promise that you'll be there
My respect for you
Is teetering on the edge
Waiting for your queue
To run for the hills
Or hold me close still
I don't mean to change your image
To cause the risk they'll get you wrong
Depending on the circumstance
You're a straight man, or you're not
I let you use my best feature
If I do say so myself
If that were no longer my desire
I'd let you know
But that's unlikely, atleast you hope so

I feel Alone, and she feels me in return.
Reassures me when there's nowhere to turn.
One thing is certain.  I'll know it 'till the end
I'll always have Alone when I need a best friend.

(Living alone is an inspiration.  It becomes clear what your solve craves;  what you can't live without.)