A muffled thought, seemingly abstruse
has pierced my complacency
and coiled like a noose
around illusions of spiritual sovereignty.
Revolts and revolutions diffuse;
I'm not a hermit; I just prefer recluse.
Profoundness diminishes to a thread-
an unquestioned worn-out word
of wisdom, with an unattested fountainhead.
My own set of laws, inconceivable,
it's best, philosophies are lived unsaid.
Don't be wise- live life to earn your daily bread.
Kill the revolution, devour its source.
Smother the spirit that starves inside
and every evolution it may endorse;
euthanize it with your loving hands
or watch it succumb to brutal force.
Union of voice and idea must lead to divorce.










10 old applause
