There would be no way
To determine it's course
Unshackled
Love, be it called
Screaming without a motive
Dripping in tears
Unrivaled in fear
Underfoot lies hate
Decaying in self deprecating
Beauty
A book
So misjudged
By it's cover
Glorious, and oh
So glorious love
To be set upon
By flights of fancy
Gold, lace and all
To be a spectacle
A beacon of the triumph
Of good over evil
Light over dark
Yin over Yang
Yang over Yin?
Silly ponderous mind
Queer that one
Would meander
Outside the box
Do not forget that poetry
Is only here to
Accommodate your
Flair
Perhaps I
Am the box
To think
Of boxes
Perfect little squares
Perfect exhibits
Of a mistrial
To wander
Look away
To see
To think of subjection
To think...
Be free, darlings.