A sea of unenchanted wisdom rambles with an echo of my own mind’s recollection,
without delay I cast off both mine and theirs, and forfeit self protection,
I agree I am wrong, though never has wrong been so right;.
When the path is true but leads to a place of no light,
after you fly will your wings be clipped without fight?
If that gift of the gods is nearly as rare as you, I might.
Yet To hold your hand I would over perch any height.
Author notes
Written April 16th, 2004
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