You deserve more than
a few quick dashes of ink,
glimpse of waterfall,
unrolled upon papyrus
and hung to be overlooked,
English contorted
into Japanese styling.
Especially when
you take the trio of you,
me, myself and I to task,
speaking to yourselves
in such a Zen-like manner:
Get out of my Way!
The ten thousand things vanish,
Ego shivers in the void.
Cold, hard wind of truth
knifes through armored illusion,
shurikens spun from
insomnimaniacal
nights, throwing words at the stars.
Sleep and find your peace,
you three, dream of wives and salt,
the whole Lot of you.
Remember you're a pillar
of Muse's community.
Only way I could write a Nat-sized poem was to cut it into chopstick-sized pieces. ;) Besides, I have to keep a shiruken handy, in case this inflates a previously punctured ego.