Philanthropic gesticulations are an evident dismissal of Anglican legends.
In this Northern hemisphere, we are unified on the verge of an axial tilt, whilst equestrian ladies in jodhpurs of champagne delicacy seek profanities beyond the confines of social respectability.
Let us sit under the wise branches of the oak tree in nocturnal dimensions of Newtonian questionability, and broaden our horizons as we contemplate our ancestors.
Listen to the bubbling brook as she whispers timeless stories of enchantment.
Oh, bearer of liberated pain, I resent fox-hunting.
The rooster always crows at dawn.

Norway maintains a Viking history, where longboats travelled to the Scottish island of Iona.
Torch the abbey in the name of paganism, and you will be exposed to galactic prohibitions which have a flavour of eternal questionability.  Can I please urge you, oh Norseman of ceremonial undertakings: If you ensure that you ride the sonar waves of superiority, then you will find beauty in those haunting chants of the Celtic glens.
Forgive me for being uncertain of my footings. I believe in classical symphonies.

I knew it was a bad idea,
I knew I shouldn’t have gone,
but there I was,
in a sea of people, strangers;
rivers of red cups filled with questionability
and a smell as strong as gasoline
radiating from everyone’s breath.
Generic high school drinking party,
Generic mistakes to be made.

Then, a face,
older than the rest.
He gave me a red cup.
I accepted, I consumed,
and then I was consumed.
The people wearing different colors –
blurry red, blue, black –
they disappeared.

Hours of pitch black darkness,
waking up a mess,
not knowing what hit me,
not knowing who hit me.

All that was left were the reminders,
black and blue on thighs and neck,
blood, and blood not sent from the moon.

Now, the aftermath,
but nothing adds up;
1 + 1 does not equal 2 anymore.
Everything equals what happened,
everything equals red streaks against skin,
the blue blanket I woke up in.

But that's the point of it all, isn't it?
Life may sucker-punch you in the heart,
make you bleed,
but the world will never run out of band-aids,
always someone will be there.

And I will be all right.