No Thanks

Seeing the cries of ocean being formed by individual tears. Observing the lies that deceive itself as passion for one another. The ground hold no footprints of long journeys into charity. Is love more than what one wants? Is it beyond the desires of the soul? Why than the numerous drown in such confusion of beauty? Woe is the heart of the multiplied- Man thinketh better, Breaking the rules of tenderness. Adding only to subtract- Simplicity taken into the abyss of no yearning. Blaspheme! Poisoned water. Drinketh? No thanks, I'll just ride off to the next waterhole!