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