A Toilets Rim
Perished in thought burn all things to ash
Like those inspired by a shadows edge,
But who is blessed in the miracle of life, the complexity of thought and dream
Under the question from ones conscience;
Strange it is when truth has breached
By a thousand souls descendant
And the drip from my toilets rim
Give to us all the vision of change
Deep in thought and perception,
Until the sanctity our intent inspired
Is characterized by the solitude within;
Speak the lines in reflected reason
When impressions are all unjust
Under the drip from my toilets rim
Do not desert what lays condoned
By the ancient deceptive oracle,
For there is no explanation to complexities, or the isolation of its decent
Into our moral servitude;
Listen to the knowledge in the words we speak
The question of a thought applied
To that drip from my toilets rim
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